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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27363631">take your time (coming home)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Floatdown/pseuds/Floatdown'>Floatdown</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Excessive Swearing, F/F, Found Family, M/M, Mikannie Week 2020, Misunderstandings, and historia's out here just trying to have a good time, annie's a [gay] mess, im actually sorry, mikasa is dramatic, okay this is way longer than it needed to be, they all love each other, this is lowkey crack, ymir's a mess</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 11:49:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>36,386</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27363631</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Floatdown/pseuds/Floatdown</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A light flush spreads across the firefighter’s cheeks. It’s almost like she’s embarrassed by the memory, and Annie might’ve found it endearing if it weren’t for the fact that her breathing was beginning to fail. Anticipation and apprehension rises up her spine while the other woman finds her words.</p><p>“A woman yelled at me from her window on the day I took my tour. It was...a horrifying experience, and I decided not to return to it,” she explains almost sheepishly, shrugging one shoulder and glancing away just in time to miss the way Annie’s face transforms entirely. </p><p>In all of one moment, everything is startlingly clear. Annie can see this woman in her mind’s eye, standing below her window in a red scarf. She can see Ymir screeching and her running away and Annie missing her by mere moments. It’s a perfect play by play that she’s been repeating in her head for weeks, except now she actually has a face to imagine. And that face has her stomach dropping all too suddenly, has all the blood draining from her head, has her squeezing the cat in her arms tight enough for him to let out a mrow of alarm.</p><p>Oh fuck.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Annie Leonhart &amp; Ymir, Armin Arlert &amp; Krista Lenz | Historia Reiss, Armin Arlert/Eren Yeager, Krista Lenz | Historia Reiss/Ymir, Mikasa Ackerman &amp; Eren Yeager, Mikasa Ackerman &amp; Krista Lenz | Historia Reiss, Mikasa Ackerman/Annie Leonhart</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>277</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The first day of apartment hunting could have gone better, she supposes.</p><p>Armin had done his due diligence before he left for his and Eren’s month-long honeymoon, and the list he’d given her was filled with admittedly beautiful apartment complexes that hosted several attractive amenities. </p><p>Her job was supposed to be simple. All she had to do was systematically go through the list, attend each tour in each apartment complex, and make her own list of favorites so that she could later compare notes with the others. The original plan had included Historia, but at the last minute, there was a mishap with a substitute teacher, and she had to start work a week earlier than expected, so Mikasa thought it was best to keep to schedule and attend the tours separately.</p><p>Oh, what a fool she’d been. </p><p>While she knew Historia would’ve most likely just oo-ed and ah-ed at each apartment they visited, at least she wouldn’t have had to live through the experience alone - or maybe, if they’d rescheduled, she wouldn’t have had to gone through it at all.</p><p>What was supposed to happen was that she was going to find an apartment that spoke to her. One that was so utterly perfect that it both withstood Eren’s ability to emit a scream so loud that it transcended the city block and accommodated Historia’s fervent desire to have a balcony that had a clear view of the sunset everyday. Mikasa and Armin were significantly less picky with the requirements, so she knew she'd be looking more with their soulmates' in mind. </p><p>What actually happened could be recorded in history as one of the worst days of her life, and she didn’t have very many of those. One of the only other ones she could think of was the day her parents died. Every other day, she felt mostly indifferent towards. </p><p>But no. Indifference was not to be on this day.</p><p>Mikasa’s suffering begins at exactly 8:54 a.m, 54 minutes after she’d woken up. Everything had been normal, if a bit quiet. She’d showered, gotten dressed, and made breakfast like a well-oiled machine. The only thing she had left to complete the routine was to wrap that ever-present scarf around her neck - but therein lied the problem. That ever-present scarf was no longer ever-present, and she’d never felt closer to the brink of insanity as she scoured the apartment, shoving couches out of the way and digging through her laundry like a woman possessed. </p><p>Now, some sympathy should be afforded to her. Ironically, the worst day of her life (see above) also happened to coincide with the best day of her life.</p><p>Which is to say that, the day of her parents deaths had also been the day that Mikasa found her soulmate - or perhaps, rather, her soulmate had found her. </p><p>There she was, backed up against the corner, still sick with the feeling of her parents blood beneath her tiny 7-year old feet, when that little red string attached to her right hand gave the hardest tug it’s ever had before. She’d barely noticed it at the time, but when the door slammed against the wall and cops flooded into the room, she knew immediately that the little boy doing his best to shove his way through the door to get to her was to thank.</p><p>Apparently, his family had just moved to Shiganshina a few weeks before, and this was the first time he was able to get away from his family long enough to follow the taut string that led to her family’s house. He managed to call for help after peeking through the window and seeing the horror show inside, and as she was ushered through the door and towards the paramedics, Mikasa’s hand followed the string and latched onto Eren’s, holding so tightly that she was sure that she hurt him. But he never said anything. All he did was sit with her as she stared blankly at the ground until she began to shiver. Then, he pried his fingers away from her own and began to coil his red scarf around her neck.</p><p>“This means we’re going to be best friends forever,” he said, linking their right pinkies together where only the loop around their fingers was visible. “I won’t let anything hurt you. I promise.” Eren had said it with such determination, such fiery resolution that Mikasa had no choice but to believe him. She felt that same resolve manifest in her gut, and she’d nodded, a contract signed between them both.</p><p>Platonic soulmates became siblings, and then here they were, 18 years later.</p><p>Except now, Mikasa can’t find that <em> fucking </em>scarf, and she’s been searching for nearly 30 minutes. </p><p>Eren had given her replacements over the years, and even Armin and Historia had added to her growing collection of neckwear, but this one was special. This one was the one she wore when they were away from each other (which was less often than one might think).</p><p>Platonic soulmates were just like that. It was basically embedded into whatever soulmate gene they carried in their DNA to stay attached to the hip until your romantic soulmate was discovered, and even after then, she doesn’t think she knows of very many cases where platonic soulmates go their separate ways - hence why Mikasa and Historia were moving into the same building as the newly-weds. </p><p>15 minutes later, and 45 minutes after she was supposed to leave for Trost, she stormed out of the apartment, a scarf that wasn’t quite the right color of red wrapped haphazardly atop her shoulders, as if she could barely stand the feel of it against her skin. </p><p>Act 2 of the tragedy that was her day began at the first apartment complex on her list. She arrived 20 minutes late to her scheduled appointment, and even after staring at the man in a way that was usually able to bring people to tears, he refused to give her the tour. Apparently there was a 15 minute window afforded, and Mikasa had missed it by 5. </p><p>She tried reasoning with him, polite in her smile and apologetic in her voice. She knew that Armin had put 2 check marks next to this place, meaning it was a top contender on his list, so she really did try extra hard. She even batted her eyelashes a little in the way her high school classmates taught her before she resorted to that steely glare of hers. When he remained unaffected, uninterestedly telling her to reschedule for another day as he went back to his computer, she decided that landlords must be a different breed entirely. She wondered briefly if he could sniff out her unwillingness to accept bullshit and decided immediately that she would be too high-maintenance of a tenant to take care of, or in other words, someone not easily taken advantage of. Or maybe he just preferred punctual people.</p><p>Mikasa didn’t give a shit about any of his reasoning or her own reasonableness, though. She left the apartment complex with her jaw clenched, a migraine building, and a thorough scratch off the list in her hand, already dreading that she’d have to tell Armin that she botched the first tour and would probably never come back out of both spite and pride. She just hoped he didn’t like it too much. </p><p>The next few tours went fine, she supposes. One apartment she’d seen just after lunch had a large patio that overlooked the view of a nearby park. What was even better was that it was on the west side of the building, meaning that Historia may just get her sunsets yet.</p><p>Act 3 happens when she opens her phone to send a picture of the view to their group chat. </p><p>
  <b>homiesexuals</b>
</p><p>MikASSa (9:03): Has anyone seen my scarf?</p><p>MikASSa (9:21): Anyone?</p><p>Thing 1(☆&gt;⊇&lt;)  (10:30): no :(((((((</p><p>Thing 1(☆&gt;⊇&lt;) (10:30): sorry mika :((((</p><p>MikASSa (10:33): It’s okay. I’m using my backup.</p><p>MikASSa (1:40): [jpg. Attachment]</p><p>MikASSa (1:40): @Historia</p><p>Thing 1(☆&gt;⊇&lt;) (1:41): OMG!!!!!!!!!</p><p>Thing 1(☆&gt;⊇&lt;) (1:41): !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!</p><p>Thing 1(☆&gt;⊇&lt;) (1:42): ☆*:.｡.o(≧▽≦)o.｡.:*☆</p><p>Thing 1(☆&gt;⊇&lt;) (1:42): ITS BEAUTIFUL!!!!!!</p><p>Thing 2 ୧☉□☉୨ (1:44): Is that the one on 54th?</p><p>MikASSa (1:45): Yes.</p><p>Thing 2 ୧☉□☉୨ (1:46): I liked that one too!</p><p>MR. ARLERT&lt;33333 (1:48): hey kasa!! jst got ur txts sry</p><p>MR. ARLERT&lt;33333 (1:48): i grabbed ur scarf on accident &gt;:(</p><p>MR. ARLERT&lt;33333 (1:49): armin and i r gna go to the post office 2day dnt worry</p><p>MR. ARLERT&lt;33333 (1:49): u should get it next week!!</p><p>Thing 2 ୧☉□☉୨ (1:50): Don’t worry, Mikasa! We’ll pay extra so that it gets to you safely and swiftly!</p><p>MikASSa (1:54): Thank you.</p><p>There was some comfort in knowing that the scarf was safe and on its way back to her and not somewhere flying in the wind, but with the persisting headache and the dark cloud already settled firmly above her head, she couldn’t help but catastrophize.</p><p>
  <em>What if it gets lost in the mail?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>What if it’s damaged?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Should I tell them not to send it?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But could I stand a month away from it? </em>
</p><p>
  <em>...could I even do a week?</em>
</p><p>Mikasa firmly shook her head as that thought crossed her mind. The scarf was her most precious belonging. It symbolized a home, a family - a bond of friendship that got her through the most difficult time of her life. She was attached to it, maybe unhealthily so, but she refused to be <em> that </em>attached to it. </p><p>She could do a week. </p><p>She could.</p><p>Except now her nerves were fried, and they most likely would be for every day it takes for the scarf to get there. </p><p>Mikasa sighed as she stepped out of the building, reaching a hand up to pinch the bridge of her nose. She’s always been a bit of a worrier, internalized as it may be, but she was never this neurotic. </p><p>Not for the first time that day, she wished Historia had been able to come. If the sheer radiance of her presence wasn’t enough to fix her mood however slightly, she’d sure she would at least be a suitable distraction from her own anxiety. Historia and Armin were always beacons of light in their little family unit, and she'd come to cherish their presences in her life almost as much as she did Eren's.</p><p>At first, Mikasa had been thrown off by the sunshine-y blond boy and his equally sunshine-y soulmate. She was so used to Grisha’s distance, Carla’s quiet affection, and Eren’s brash demeanor that seeing the duo for the first time left her a little skeptical. Over time, she learned to admire Armin’s optimism and Historia’s determination, and the outsiders she once regarded only with a 10-foot pole became family to her. </p><p>And with Eren and Armin off galivanting in that blissful little bubble of theirs, that left Historia and Mikasa with nothing to do but get to know one another. They roomed together in the dorms, lived side by side when the 4 of them found their first and second apartments, and now they were going to be roommates again while their soulmates lived in domestic bliss somewhere else in whatever building they were to live in. It really isn’t a wonder that the two of them became so close and that Mikasa was finding herself wanting to be comforted by her.</p><p>Mikasa sighed again and began walking the short few blocks to the last apartment. The day was only just about halfway over with and she already wanted to crawl back into bed. Maybe if she were lucky, Historia would be up for some takeout tonight from that place around the corner. Those dumplings were probably the only things she was going to miss about Shiganshina. That, and her neighbor’s cat. </p><p>“Hi, welcome to Sina Apartments! How may I assist you today?”</p><p>Mikasa’s polite smile was more a grimace than anything else, but the dead look in the apartment manager’s eyes seemed to say that she understood. It said, “look at me - look at how empty I am. This is the 4th time this year that I’ve had to replace Mrs. Jenson’s toilet handle, and at this point, I’m not sure I want to know how it keeps breaking. Nothing can hurt me anymore.” As someone who took routine calls to an overly sensitive fire alarm that went off every time Ms. Frizzle saged her house, Mikasa understood that sentiment well.</p><p>The complex, she had to admit, turned out to be very nice. The stairwells were clean, open, and easily accessible, the units had a rather open layout with a spacious enough balcony for Historia to do her yoga on, and after a quick test when the landlord wasn’t watching, Mikasa found that she could barely hear anything at all from the neighbors through the wall. With an in-facility gym and another within walking distance, she understood why Armin had underlined <em>and</em> placed a checkmark next to it. Suitable to say, she was impressed. This was definitely going at the top of her list.</p><p>Or rather, that’s what she thought <em> before </em>walking out of the building.</p><p>Herein lies the climax of Mikasa’s suffering. This is the moment that plays on repeat in her mind for weeks, haunting her every time she walks the streets of Trost.</p><p>With her mood making a slight incline with the success of her last tour, she exited the complex, typing some last minute notes on the building as she did so. She’d just reached the end of the awning when she was stopped by the sound of a window screeching as it was thrown open. The sheer urgency of it had her instincts immediately on alert, and she turned and looked upwards towards the source. What she found had her eyebrows shooting up in surprise and her feet taking a step back in pure alarm. </p><p>There, a woman stood, hands braced on the window frame as she stuck the top half of her body out, head on a swivel, going back and forth behind her to the street below. Her chest was heaving, and her eyes were wild, tearing through each person she could find with reckless abandon until they landed on Mikasa.</p><p>Now, Mikasa would describe herself as a generally brave person. She had just the right amount of nerves every time she ran into a fire, and she knew exactly what she was capable of.</p><p>But standing here, with that woman’s beady eyes piercing directly into her soul, Mikasa knew when to cut her losses - and somehow, the other woman knew it too, because in the next moment she was screeching out of the window, “HEY!! YOU!!”</p><p>In a flash, she turned around, and as if the devil himself was on her heels, she began to flee. Behind her, she continued to bellow, “HEY ASIAN LADY!!! FUCKING WAIT A SECOND!!! I’M COMING TO GET YOU!!!” And then the yelling stopped, and Mikasa knew she was making good on her promise. </p><p>For the first time in her life, she picked flight. This wasn’t some childhood bully or a handsy fratboy she could fight off. This was a deranged woman, motivated by nothing but her own whims and mania. Nothing could stop her, and Mikasa didn’t want to try. If everything was already going wrong today, she didn’t want to take her chances, so as soon as the street went quiet, she took off in a sprint down the street, turning corners in an effort to lose her pursuant. She didn’t stop or look back, and by the time she reached her car, she was heaving for breath, hands shaking as she reached to throw open the car door.</p><p>The day was still young, and with it came the gaggle of pedestrians meandering down the streets. A lot of them had stopped to stare at the sight of a 5’8 tank of a woman booking it in broad daylight, and if Mikasa had been even slightly mentally capable at the moment, she would’ve realized that it was her who looked like she was lacking her mental faculties in the city that was to be her primary residence and place of work. But she wasn't, and she didn't care.</p><p>Mikasa was sure that the only way she got home that day was on an auto-pilot fueled solely by adrenaline and self-preservation. </p><p>For a few moments after parking the car, she sat there, hands clenching the steering wheel and eyes blinking but unseeing. Her heart had long calmed in the drive between cities, but the lasting effects had her hand trembling as she reached into her pocket to grab the meticulously folded list Armin had given her. On the name that had both a check mark and an underline, she began to scratch at it with a pen. She didn’t stop until it was completely covered, and when it was, she simply got out of the car, walked up the steps to their apartment, and got into bed. </p><p>Then, she began to scream.</p><p>2 hours later, Historia finds her wrapped up in a pile of her beloved neckwear, staring emptily into the ceiling above her. It takes several minutes of prompting and a shrug before Historia is plopping down on the bed beside her and unraveling the copious scarves from her face. When she still doesn’t get an acknowledgement, she pouts.</p><p>“Are you really this upset about your scarf?” She teases lightly, showing her concern with the slight furrow of her brow. </p><p>This gets a twitch out of Mikasa who takes only a moment before shaking her head mutely. Darting her eyes to look at Historia, she swallows and opens her mouth.</p><p>“I think I had a bad day,” she says distortedly, like she’s so far removed from the concept that it feels wrong for the words to come out of her mouth. </p><p>Historia, ever the life-safer, knows exactly what to do - like she's been preparing and training for this day all along. </p><p>With a flourish, she pulls out her phone and orders the takeout place on speed dial. “Hi Mike! I need 1 order of mongolian beef, 1 order of kung pao chicken, 1 order of chowmein, 3 orders of your dumplings, <em> aaaaaand </em> 4 bottles of Tsingtao prettyplease.” </p><p>Mikasa’s no longer looking at her, but she can practically hear the smile that’s overtaken Historia’s angelic face. Even polite, the radiance of her aura quite nearly blinds Mikasa. And yet, in just 5 minutes, she’s no longer wound as tight as a coil.</p><p>If only Historia had been there today, keeping that woman from committing psychological terrorism on her mind with just the sheer brightness of her presence. Who would yell at a pretty, tiny blonde girl? Not Mikasa, and if that woman had any ounce of sense within her, not her either. </p><p>Historia hangs up the phone and drops it to the side before turning and facing Mikasa. One of the scarves she’d gotten her as a friendaversary gift (dated on the same day as Eren and Armin’s anniversary) was laying between them, so she reaches out to play with its strings.</p><p>“Wanna talk about it, champ?” She questions, blue eyes wide and big and open to let her know that she'll listen to whatever she has to say.</p><p>But frankly, the answer is not at all. She’d rather just forget about the whole thing, actually. </p><p>Shaking her head, she turns her head to look at her once more. “Why don’t you tell me about your day instead? It was your first, after all,” and Historia, seeing the deflection for what it is, takes pity on her and agrees immediately. Turns out that she has a lot to say.</p><p>Mikasa is suitably distracted by the time the food gets there 35 minutes later. “- and <em>apparently </em>Rebecca and Dani used to be in differing classes, but as soon as their moms found out, they got it all sorted and put them in what's now my class. Oh, they are so adorable! They were wearing matching butterfly pins in their hair! I remember Armin and I's first friendship bracelet. We were both so proud because we made them for each other. I think I still have it somewhere in one of my -”</p><p>A knock interrupts her.</p><p>Mikasa heaves herself off the bed, scooping up the dozens of scarves that have fallen from her body and leaving them on top of her sheets to put away later. She waves off Historia’s attempt to grab her purse, opens the door, and reaches for the bags offered to her by their usual takeout guy.</p><p>“I thought Eren and Armin were on their honeymoon,” Mike asks in an attempt at polite conversation as she hands him the money, peeking over her shoulder and furrowing his eyebrows when he seems to realize that Eren’s usual background screeches are nowhere to be found.</p><p>“They are,” she replies simply, staring blankly at his face when he turns back to face her.</p><p>He blinks in return. “So it’s just you and miss Historia eating all this?”</p><p>“Yes,” she says, as if it’s obvious, and then they sit there, blinking at each other for several moments before Mike’s fidgeting becomes unbearable and he makes a hasty retreat down the hall. With a shrug, she closes the door and takes the bags to the table where Historia is already wiggling in her chair in excitement.</p><p>“Man, this smells delicious!” She cries out, eyes wide and eager, looking so very much like a puppy in that moment when Mikasa hands her her order of chicken. Eren and Armin were like that too - earnest and eager - and if this were a house filled with dogs, she’d be the lone cat, watching distantly with poorly disguised fondness as the puppies around her jump and yap at her. “I’m gonna be so sad when we leave this place behind,” she says around a bite of chowmein. “We <em> have </em>to eat here at least 5 more times before we leave, okay?”</p><p>Mikasa agrees immediately, glad they're of the same mind, as she steadily makes her way through her own meal. Halfway through, Historia hums thoughtfully, as if remembering something.</p><p>“I rescheduled all the apartment tours for this saturday. Armin wants to facetime on sunday so that we can make the final decision and apply for the leases. You okay with that?”</p><p>“Saturday?” she perks up, furrowing her eyebrows as she mentally scans through her calendar. “I have orientation at the new station.”</p><p>Historia cocks her head a little in confusion. “I know that, silly. I was asking about sunday."</p><p>Frowning, she shakes her head. “But who’s going to go with you on saturday?”</p><p>“You went alone today! I can go by myself, too, Mika.”</p><p><em> And look how well that went </em> , she wants to reply darkly but refrains by the barest of margins. She <em> really </em> would rather not talk about the woman she keeps thinking she sees out of the corner of her eye, but she also really doesn’t want Historia to have to go alone. What if that woman was there that day? What if she didn’t have an ounce of sense and did decide to yell at the pretty, tiny blonde girl? Feisty as Historia may be, she’s seen the crazy shit people on drugs can do and she does <em> not </em>want her soulmate-in-law to go through that. </p><p>So, she tries negotiating.</p><p>“I just believe that having someone there to make reflections with on each apartment with would be the best idea,” she tries for nonchalance, poking absently at a dumpling with her chopsticks.</p><p>Historia narrows her eyes immediately. “Then why didn’t you say anything earlier! We could’ve rescheduled yesterday so you didn’t have to make the trip today if you thought that way!”</p><p>Mikasa scowls inwardly. <em> Why didn’t she, indeed. </em>She loved efficiency, but at what cost?</p><p>She shrugs as a response, trying to look as sheepish as Mikasa Ackerman could. “It didn’t occur to me, truthfully. Maybe you can change it for sunday, and we can host the boys when we get back?”</p><p>Throwing her hands up in the air, Historia shakes her head. “They don’t have tours on sundays! Mikasa! We have to secure a lease within the next few weeks, and you’re really throwing a wrench in the works,” she pouts towards the end, crossing her arms over her chest. “We’ll just have to make due with going separate, and maybe on your break, I can call you and let you know what I think!”</p><p>Admittedly, it’s an infallible solution. Mikasa can’t even try to refute it, even as she tries for several seconds to come up with another excuse, but she knows that she has to go for at least one last hail-mary.</p><p>“Maybe you shouldn’t go at all,” she says slowly, darting her eyes everywhere but at Historia. She’s usually not one to pussy-foot around an issue (in fact, it’s quite usually the opposite), but there’s really just something about coming face to face with her own mortality that makes her want to keep it to herself - as if, if she never spoke a word about it, it didn’t have to be real. “You liked the apartment I texted earlier, right? I believe that one was the best as well, so you shouldn’t waste a trip if you’re already interested.”</p><p>Something like complete and absolute bewilderment crosses over Historia’s face, as if she can’t truly be sure that this is Mikasa Ackerman in front of her, before a dawning of realization forms. If possible, her eyes narrow even further, and Mikasa knows that her play for innocence has been caught.</p><p>“Your bad mood happened because of something at the tours today, didn’t it?” She questions with a near dangerous tone of voice, and Mikasa has the presence of mind not to lie to her when she’s beginning to get scary so she nods. Her face scrunches up even more at the confession, and she’s already whipping out her phone before Mikasa can begin to explain properly. “Tell me which apartment building it was. Daddy’s still drowning me in guilt money, and I’m gonna make him throw it all into getting this bozo fired, I promise. Even though you’re super tough and scary, you don’t always have to be strong when jerks pull stunts like this! I swear, landlords are the worst! I’m gonna make Daddy pay for the whole stupid building, and then we’ll get to rub it in his big, stupid face.”</p><p>By the end of the rant, Mikasa has swallowed down the rest of her beer and pinched her nose with a sigh. Touching as the threat may be, she can’t allow the misunderstanding to take root.</p><p>“Thank you, Historia, but I promise you it wasn’t a landlord,” she says, firmly but quietly. She pauses to collect her thoughts, and Historia nods patiently, imploring her to continue. “There was a…” she grimaces a little, “sketchy individual who lived at the last apartment listed. The experience was unsettling, and I’d prefer it if you didn’t visit it.” </p><p>Historia pauses to ponder that. “A...sketchy individual?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Of the...male variety?” She asks slowly, cautiously, face twisting in a type of way that said she was trying very hard not to freak out, and Mikasa has to bite back a groan. She normally hated being tugged around in conversations. She preferred making things short and succinct, but now it’s her who’s making it needlessly complicated. Truly, keeping it from her seemed to be more of a hassle than it was worth, and honesty was not something she had a problem with.</p><p>She decides to bite the bullet. “There was...a woman who screamed at me from her window, and she threatened to ‘come and get me.’ Frankly, however, I haven't felt much myself today, even before the incident, so I’m unsure if it’s me who’d lost her mind or the other woman. I think I’d just prefer it if you declined that tour, just in case she was mentally unhinged and put any of us in danger.”</p><p>There. It was out. Easy Peasy, as Eren used to say (Mikasa was never one for such colloquial, juvenile turn of phrases, but she found it endlessly endearing when the people she cared for did it). She explained herself, explained that she may be an unreliable narrator, and offered a perfectly valid reason to cancel the tour. Good job, Mikasa.</p><p>And Historia, the sunshine child that she is, softens in such sincere understanding, patting her arm while she nods. “Of course. I understand completely, and so will the boys. I’m sure we’ll find somewhere we’ll all love out of the rest of them. I really did like that view you showed me, anyhow,” she says optimistically, sending her a reassuring smile, and Mikasa’s shoulders nearly visibly shrug in relief. </p><p>“Thank you,” she replied, smiling the tiniest bit.</p><p>“No, thank you for telling me! If we ever have to see that woman again, it’ll be too soon. Hopefully Trost is big enough for all of us!” </p><p>Mikasa nods in grave agreement. <em> Hopefully, indeed. </em></p><hr/><p>
  <b> <em>Bang, bang bang!</em> </b>
</p><p>“Ymir, wake the fuck up. It’s almost 2 in the afternoon,” a low, muffled, and definitely irritated voice sounds through the door, and Ymir groans in response.</p><p>“It’s my fuckin’ day off. Leave me alone,” she grumbles out, hopefully loud enough for the other woman to hear, before rolling back over and shoving the pillow over her head. It must have worked because no sooner than the words leaving her mouth, Ymir can feel more than see Annie’s ghost-like presence disappear. </p><p><em> Thank God for blackout curtains, </em>she thinks as her body instantly settles back into restfulness.</p><p>Nearly 40 minutes later, another set of bangs hit the door, and her eyes are shooting open, quicker to awareness than she had been before. Irritation rises and boils over in the blink of an eye, and she’s suddenly hurtling upwards, kicking off the sheets, and throwing the pillow at the door with all of her might. “What the fuck do you want, runt!?” She yells out in frustration. </p><p>She’d been up all night playing a game Annie herself had recommended. The protagonist ended up being the hottest piece of animation she's ever seen before in her life, and she was quickly sucked into a delirium that lasted until 6 in the morning. Apparently, her ass had more polygons than the entirety of Ocarina of Time, and she felt. every. single. one.</p><p>But this also means that she was tired. Tired and grumpy. A state that was normal for her, so Annie isn't phased at all.</p><p>“I have late lunch on the table. Get out here before you ruin your sleeping schedule,” Annie calls out, unimpressed, before walking away once more.</p><p>It’s not altogether unusual for Annie to act like a mother hen (and between the two of them, <em> god, </em>they needed someone to do it), but Ymir always finds it hilarious when she does. For a woman who acts like she couldn’t give less of a shit about anything, she sure was pushy sometimes. And a little bit of a sucker. </p><p>Ymir sighs just in time for her stomach to growl, and she suddenly remembers the last thing she ate - mountain dew and the hot cheeto dust at the bottom of the bag at 6 in the morning. Fuck, that was as close to living like a teenage boy as she ever wanted to get. Shuddering, she resolves herself to getting her shit together. Just because she trails after her barbell-thumping, gym freak of a soulmate 4 times a week doesn’t mean she can be <em> that </em> gross.</p><p>Groaning as she heaves herself from the bed, she can only hope that Annie knew exactly how disgusting Ymir could be and decided to take mercy on her intestines.</p><p>She’s squinting as she finally makes her way out of the room, the dichotomy between the darkness of her room and the brightness of the afternoon light making her eyes burn a little. She follows the familiar path to the kitchen, shuffling her feet and scratching at her tummy.</p><p>“Jesus, it’s so fucking bright,” Ymir curses as she runs into the edge of the kitchen counter, rubbing at her eyes. </p><p>Annie raises an eyebrow. “Are you hungover?” It’s said in deadpan, like normal, and Ymir can never really tell when the fuck she means it or not. Right now, she’s guessing she does.</p><p>“Nope. Those blackout curtains are just elite,” she tries to explain, but when the rubbing doesn’t actually do anything, and Ymir is continuing to squint at the sight in front of her, she begins to think that something’s actually wrong. “Dude, what the fuck. It is so fucking bright, I can barely open my eyes right now. Holy shit.”</p><p>And that grabs Annie’s attention. Ymir can feel her appear at her side, poking and prodding her until they’re facing each other before Annie is pulling her down. If she wasn’t so irritated by the sudden affliction to her fucking retinas, she’d make fun of her for it, but because Annie actually has some first aid knowledge, she’s wise enough to keep her mouth shut. </p><p>“Let me see them,” Annie instructs firmly, and Ymir really does try except -</p><p>“Gah!” She yelps, jumping back into the counter so that it digs into her hips. “It’s you!!” She screams, eyes near watering as she pries them open to stare at her soulmate. “You’re lit up like a motherfucking christmas tree, Annes! Holy fuck!”</p><p>And through the light, she can barely just see the widening of her usually hooded lids, and Ymir lets out a hysterical laugh, slamming her fist on the counter. </p><p>The light is supposed to be some time of navigation system, powered by magic or love or some stupid shit like that, but Ymir thought it was all metaphorical. She didn’t think it would actually <em> hurt </em> to look at her soulmate like this, but <em> goddamn </em>if she’s not excited.</p><p>The soulmate system in this world is admittedly pretty fucking flawed. The way it works is that you’re paired off with two people, one you know is your soulmate, and the other you don't. There's a tangible red string attached to the former's finger that ties the two of you together, and once it's been drawn together, you now have the capability of finding your romantic soulmate.</p><p>Ymir accidentally stumbled across Annie without even trying. It’d been a bad day, and she hadn’t been paying any attention at all to the tugging on her finger when she walked into Annie’s dad’s auto shop. She was grumpy about her piece of shit car, and even grumpier that she had to pay for it to be fixed, so when she strolled up to the counter, she was <em> not </em> fucking happy. The girl on the other side of the counter seemed to mirror it, or at least must’ve had the biggest case of RBF that Ymir had ever seen, and it kind of really made her want to punch it in. Except, Ymir couldn’t <em> afford </em>to punch it in, even if she knows she’d look so fucking hot in that orange jumpsuit - so she settled for a glower and a curt explanation.</p><p>“So how much is it gonna be,” she bit out, shoving her hands deep into her pockets to keep from throwing them at the other girl when she answered in a flat tone that teetered over the line of condescending, “We have to look at it first. Keys, please."</p><p>And Ymir had wrenched them out of her pocket and practically thrust them in her face. When the other girl hadn’t taken them right away, Ymir’s face contorted even more in irritation, and she turned to snap at her when she finally realized that there was something tugging on her pinky. Completely gobsmacked, she watched as Annie’s right hand raised and her pinky loosely intertwined with her own.</p><p>“What a relief. My soulmate’s as big of a bitch as me,” Annie had said in the most unenthusiastic tone she's ever heard in her life, and Ymir had let out something like a wheeze.</p><p>That was when they were 19. Mr. Leonhart offered her some formal training in the shop while Annie got her B.A in Business, and now they owned the joint. It worked out pretty well - almost <em> too </em>well. But hey - that’s soulmate magic for you.</p><p>The second person (or however many fuckers you're romantically tied to) is supposed to be your romantic soulmate, and even if you’ve met them before your platonic soulmate, they can’t be identified without the first person there. It’s a bit of a shitshow, if you ask Ymir. There's so much room for error there. Like what if you just happen to walk by your soulmate without your buddy there, and your soulmate walks out of your life forever? Or if you never meet your platonic soulmate, how are you gonna find your romantic one? Or what if you don’t fucking know how to decipher that stupid light that’s supposed to lead your soulmate to their other soulmate?</p><p>It’s always kind of stressed Ymir out to think about, but Annie was only slightly more optimistic than her - enough, at least, to say that it usually always works out fine. According to statistics anyways. Or maybe, fate.</p><p>And now, with her best friend’s piss poor love life in her hands, she knows she’s gotta act. There’s not a super great description of the light for people - just that the light gets bright when you’re near their soulmate and that you have the tools to interpret it so that you can lead them to each other. So Ymir opens her eyes as wide as she can go and stares <em> hard, </em>trying to use the special soulmate tools she’s been gifted.</p><p>At first, it just burns, and she has no idea what the fuck she’s supposed to be doing. Annie is trying her best not to shift anxiously, but Ymir can see it even through the light, and it makes her want to try even harder. Nothing changes for several moments - until, the brightness seems to dim, ever the slightest bit, as if the person is leaving, and all the lights and sirens go off inside her head. She hits the panic button <em>hard </em>and has to make a split decision - go for the door or the window. She doesn’t know how sensitive the light thing is supposed to be, but if they’re leaving the building, Ymir has to catch them, or at least stop them.</p><p>Quickly, she reaches for Annie’s wrist and tugs her towards the window facing the front of the building, grabbing at the bottom with trembling hands and thrusting it upwards with maybe a little too much force. She doesn’t pay it any mind, though, and neither does Annie apparently, because she doesn’t say anything when Ymir nearly dives out of the fucking apartment to get a better look at the view in front of her. </p><p>There are a few people out and about today, and Ymir goes back and forth between everyone, turning to stare at Annie and the person, as if she’ll know right away who it is - and it works! Because none too soon, Ymir’s eyes fall on a pair directly below her. There’s something about this woman...something <em> shiny </em>that just stood out to her more than any of the others. It’s a gut instinct, one that solidifies the more she stares intensely at her, and near hysterical excitement rises in her chest.</p><p>Except that woman is suddenly turning on her heel, eyes wide and frightened, and Ymir just <em> has </em>to stop her, so she screams out, “HEY!! YOU!!”</p><p>If possible, that startles the woman even more, and Ymir panics. “HEY ASIAN LADY!!! FUCKING WAIT A SECOND!!! I’M COMING TO GET YOU!!!” And she doesn’t even have time to regret her poor word choice before she’s yanking Annie along with her outside of the apartment, jumping flights of stairs and racing out the door. </p><p>She’s heaving and glancing around wildly when she reaches the outside world, shoving Annie in front of her to use her like some type of gps device. When she sees that the light has dimmed dramatically within the minute it took to get down the stairs, she lets out a string of curses, hissing out, “No, no, no! Where the hell is that crazy bitch!?” Ymir’s hands are heavy on Annie’s shoulders, shaking her like some type of magic 8 ball in the hope that whatever direction that girl went would spill out of her.</p><p>But Annie decides she finally has enough and throws a jab into her stomach, effectively stunning her from her hysteria. Ymir lets out a wheeze and doubles over, feeling all sorts of betrayed as she struggles to catch her breath. That short little bitch never pulled her punches, even if she meant well.</p><p>“Ymir,” Annie starts, and the lack of firmness startles her almost as much as the hit had. Ymir looks up. Annie’s face is twisted in a way she’s never seen before, something soft along the edges but also not quite able to keep the disappointment and anxiety at bay. All in a blink of an eye, it’s gone though, and the mental whiplash of seeing her usual indifferent best friend show that much vulnerability and then erase it just as quickly is almost enough to K.O her completely. It’s way too fucking early to be cycling through emotions like this - or rather, it might be best to say that she wasn’t fucking awake enough to deal with this.</p><p>Likewise, Ymir tries to disguise her own emotions, but she knows that she’s doing a pretty shitty job when Annie punches her in the arm and rolls her eyes. “Don’t sulk. I knew from the get go that your goblin face was going to give me trouble, so I’m not pissed, but you’re going to get us evicted if you keep acting like a rabid dog in front of management,” she drawls before shoving her hands in her pockets and turning back to the front door.</p><p>And if it weren’t for the fact that Ymir had literally seen her make that stupid, weirdly heart-breaking face a minute ago, she’d think that Annie really didn’t give a shit (per usual) that Ymir fumbled the bag and <em> lost </em>her soulmate - the one that they both pretended to not care about but also the one that they stayed up at night talking about, yearning quietly while they passed a bowl back and forth between them. (Figures that the only time they choose to be vulnerable is when they're high off their asses.)</p><p>One thing was certain - she was not letting this go so easily.</p><p>She storms in after Annie and heads towards the front desk where the woman remains unflinching as she stares. “Ymir, what the - ”</p><p>Ymir tries to reign in her expressions to the best of her abilities, but she thinks it loses its effect as she reflexively points at the woman’s face, asking, “Listen lady - did you happen to see an Asian woman with a red scarf walk through here a few minutes ago?”</p><p>And the woman just blinks, dead-eyed. “We have a confidentiality agreement with all of our residents and guests. I'm not at liberty to disclose any personal information, ma'am.”</p><p>She nearly growls in response. “I didn’t ask about your confidentiality agreement, lady. I wanna know if you saw that woman?”</p><p>Behind her, Annie let’s out an exasperated sigh, but she doesn’t move to intervene. One of the bitchiest things about Annie was that she lowkey loved watching when Ymir was rude as fuck to people. It was one of her very few pleasures in this life.</p><p>The manager’s eyes just deadens further, but the smile remains. “Yes, ma’am, I did.”</p><p>“Does she live here? Do you know her name? Can you give me a full description of her face? Or better yet, could you give me access to the security cameras?”</p><p>And something just tightens around the edges of her smile as she repeats, “We have a confidentiality agreement with all of our residents and guests. I'm not at liberty to disclose any personal information,” as if she’s going to snap at any moment, and Ymir’s worked enough customer service jobs to know when someone’s going to risk it all just for a moment of absolute, untamable demonstration of rage towards a customer (she should know; that’s how she got fired from all her previous jobs and also the reason why she doesn’t meet with any customers in the shop) so she reworks her approach.</p><p>“Okay, okay, okay,” she holds her hand up in acquiescence, praying to all the gods to lose her patented severity for just this moment. “I know you have all this confidentiality bullshit, but isn’t there some kind of clause in there somewhere about soulmates? Doesn’t soulmate magic override the laws of government or whatever?”</p><p>“No,” the woman shakes her head firmly, suddenly looking aghast. “No, it absolutely does not override the laws of government. We’ve had wars about this. Many, many wars.”</p><p>When Annie lets out a snort behind her, Ymir whirls on her. “You said this soulmate shit always works out! You didn't tell me there were fucking wars!” She whispers harshly, accusingly, as if she's been betrayed by this new information. But before Annie can roll her eyes at her friend's antics, she's turning back around and facing the woman once more.</p><p>“Okay lady, look - I just fucking woke up. I stayed up all night eating mountain dew and drinking hot cheeto dust, and I really fucking screwed the pooch here with my soulmate. I just need to know if that woman’s been here before and if there’s a possibility she’ll come back so I know to keep an eye on shorty over here.”</p><p>The desperation must bleed onto her face, or maybe the woman’s just tired of dealing with her, because Ymir can see the moment where all the fight leaves her. “Probably not,” the woman waves a little defeatedly, body finally sagging and thinly veiled annoyance lining her face. “I’ve never seen a woman run so fast before. I don’t think she’s coming back.”</p><p>Devastation sinks into Ymir’s gut. The little sustenance she got from her early morning binge is barely holding her body up, and she kind of just wants to sink into the floor and die for a little while. </p><p>
  <em> What the fuck, Ymir? After all Annie’s done for you, this is how you repay her? You just fucked her one chance for love. What is wrong with - </em>
</p><p>“But,” the woman sighs again, interrupting Ymir’s internal self-roasting sesh. “I’ll tell you a few things that probably won’t get me in trouble.”</p><p>Just like that, Ymir perks up again, and the tug on her finger tells her that Annie must too.</p><p>“She mentioned something about getting a new job in the city and how she had to sign a lease in the next month or two, so she’ll probably still find an apartment somewhere in the city. In my experience, the light has a maximum distance of 3 miles, so if you just spend time driving around, you’ll probably run into her again,” the manager informs her dutifully, once again slipping into her customer service voice before she stops and eyes Ymir for a moment. “But I would recommend not shouting at her. She may have run this time, but I feel like you wouldn’t be so lucky next time.”</p><p>“Why’s that?” Annie asks, throwing off her façade of disinterest.</p><p>The woman ponders for a moment. “Her presence was quite intense. Quiet, but very strong and very scary. I believe she could throw me through the wall if she was so inclined.”</p><p>Ymir can’t stop the predatory smile that unfurls across her face as she claps Annie on the back. “Looks like you scored yourself a winner there, babe. I’d like to see someone finally put you in your place.”</p><p>“Not if she throws <em> you </em>through the wall first for harassing her,” Annie retorts with a scowl, throwing an elbow out in retaliation.</p><p>And Ymir has the sense to stop prodding her because <em> fuck, </em>she’s probably right. That woman looked freaked the fuck out. The next time they saw each other, she wouldn’t even blame her if her first instinct was to hit first and ask questions later. She lets out a groan. What a shitshow.</p><p>“Now, if that’s all - I have an appointment scheduled in the next few minutes.”</p><p>Throwing out her last ace, she puts on the most charming she can muster, leaning against the counter and hooding her eyes. “Hold up now - let’s not get too hasty here. How about a name at least? Her initials? Maybe you can blink in Morse code?”</p><p>The moment the woman’s eyes sharpen, Annie’s grabbing her by the back of her shirt and tugging her away from the manager. “Sorry about her, and thanks for the info. Please don’t increase our rent,” she calls out behind her.</p><p>Ymir squawks indignantly at the rough-handling, especially when they pass a couple on the way to the elevators. There’s just something so wrong about being man-handled by a woman nearly a foot smaller than you, but she<em> is </em> in the doghouse, so she doesn’t immediately try to pounce on the top of her head to noogie the shit out of her hair like she knows she hates. </p><p>By the time they make it up the elevator and back to their apartment, they’re both more than a little messed up. Annie’s hair looks more like the rats nest she gets every time she wakes up, and Ymir….well, Ymir is still wheezing by the time she gets to the door, hunched over and massaging her stomach from Annie’s latest retaliation. She should really know better by now, but it really was so fun to irritate her soulmate, especially when it brought attention away from the fact that her romantic soulmate, the one day owner of her heart, her <em> true love </em> had been in the same building as her and Ymir had failed her job to get them together. Like, literally, this was her main job. <em> The </em>main job. And she messed it up - all because of that beautiful animated ass that kept her up all night. This is why she can never have nice things.</p><p>When the door closes behind them, Ymir’s head is sunken deep into her shoulders with her hands shoved into her pockets, looking impossibly grumpy. She’s avoided eye contact with Annie for the last several minutes because - what if she’s pissed? What if she finally gets mad enough to scream at her? Or worse - what if she’s <em> sad </em>?</p><p>Oh gods, the thought makes her nearly nauseous. </p><p>This was all her fault. If they never found that woman again - if she <em> ruined </em> her best and only friend’s chance at finding her soulmate? She would never, ever forgive herself. She would exile herself from the rest of humanity. She would take a vow of silence. She’d spend the rest of her existence reflecting on how much of a pisspoor human being she was. <em> That </em>was how worried she was.</p><p>Annie was her best friend, her ride or die, her boo thang for life. She picked her up like she was a stray, decided that she <em> liked </em>that Ymir was near rabid (or at least related to it), and kept her. To let her down like this was - </p><p>“Stop it. Don’t be an idiot. I already told you I wasn’t mad,” Annie cuts through her downward spiral of self-pity, leaning back against the wall with her arms crossed over her chest. Ymir looks up at her voice and tries to decipher the look on her face. As usual, she gives nothing away, though she does look slightly pensive.</p><p>At this, Ymir asks, “sad?” gruffly, head tilted up but one eye peeked open to keep her sight on Annie’s every microexpression.</p><p>Annie rolls her eyes. “Not sad. A little disappointed - <em> but, </em>” she stresses when she sees Ymir’s lips curl deeper into a frown, “it’s fine. She’s going to move to the city, so there’s a high chance of catching her out somewhere. It’ll work out.”</p><p>And Ymir really envies how fucking easy she rolls with the punches because she’s still sweating balls just panicking over this. “What if it doesn’t?” She bites out, letting some of her inner thoughts crawl out of her mouth before she can stop it. They’re not the emotional type of soulmates, but she can’t help the anxiety that leaks into her voice. </p><p>Annie shrugs. “I’m too lazy to think about it. It’ll work out.”</p><p>“But what if - ”</p><p>“<em> Ymir,” </em> Annie interrupts, voice soft but firm. Ymir turns to face her fully now, wringing the side of her pajama pants restlessly. “I told you - it’s <em> fine. </em>I trust this and I trust you. Don’t overexert that tiny brain of yours,” she reassures her, knocking gently on her head before raising an eyebrow. “Besides, if we don’t find her in the next few months, I figure we’ll just bully the manager into telling us her name. If she ends up kicking us out, well - you’re moving all our shit.” </p><p>Ymir lets out a snort, shoulders slowly releasing their tension. “Yeah, yeah, you lazy sack of shit - it wouldn’t be the first time you make me do all the work. I don’t know who the fuck runs this show, but you’d think pairing two underachievers together would be pretty fucking stupid.” </p><p>“Believe me - I know,” Annie agrees very seriously, before considering something and moving towards the kitchen. “But we’ve done pretty good together so far. It’s nice to know that someone’s just as shitty of a human being as I am.”</p><p>Ymir pauses from where she’s following her into the room, narrowing her eyes. “Are we having a moment right now?”</p><p>Annie’s look is flat. “I figure your ego needs some reassurance right now. Don’t question it and eat. I heard your comment about drinking hot cheeto dust. I don’t care how hot 2B is - you’re a grown ass woman. If the spirit of the prepubescent boy currently inhabiting your body wants to eat, he should make top ramen like the rest of us and try <em> not </em>to completely decimate your intestines.”</p><p>And that’s the moment that Ymir’s stomach lets it be known that it <em> really </em>fucking agrees. </p><p><em> Ah </em>, it seems like Annie’s okay for right now. Worrying and coming up with a plan of action can wait until she has a full stomach. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ymir’s big plan turns out to be staking out all the higher end apartments in Trost.</p><p>“She’s a bougie bitch, I can just tell,” Ymir had grumbled to herself when she initially came up with the idea, and Annie didn’t really know how to feel about that thought, so she just let Ymir handle the rest of the scheming - not that she would’ve helped either way. She almost always felt faint whenever she thought about the near-miss with her soulmate, so she tried her best to put it out of her mind.</p><p>She really wasn’t lying when she told Ymir that she wasn’t mad. When she first realized what exactly had aggravated Ymir so much, she nearly went into shock. In fact, she thinks she actually very nearly fainted. All the blood had drained from her face, and her heart was beating so fast she thought that it may have actually flown away from her. It was only until Ymir started shrieking outside their window like a banshee and practically tore out her arm to pull her outside the apartment did she slip back into a pseudo-reality. She had just the presence of mind to keep up with Ymir’s frantic pace as they tore out of the building.</p><p>It took being shaken around like a toy to finally snap her out of her daze. Once she did, she knew she needed to calm her soulmate down too or else it’d just re-freak herself out, and she really didn’t need that right now. It took all that she had to push down the apprehension that had steadily been rising in her stomach, and even when the end of the street pulled at her gaze, she refused to look. It was obvious that they missed her. There was no use in panicking now.</p><p>She saved that for later, when she was locked up in her room and Ymir was somewhere lurking and plotting.</p><p>Like with most things, Annie never put much energy into thinking about the whole soulmates thing. Whenever she did, she always grew discomfited by the emotions, subdued as they were, that welled within her. She couldn’t decipher them, and she truthfully didn’t want to, so she just never thought about it.</p><p>After her first encounter with Ymir, though, she knew she couldn’t ignore it forever, especially when her soulmate seemed to have no trouble crawling under her skin. It was the most interest she’s taken in anyone, which, she supposes was the point, so Ymir stayed and Annie tried to compromise with herself. </p><p>She tried not putting any stock into the subtle ways her life changed once Ymir stormed into it - how...<em> content </em> she seemed to be, when before, all she felt was genuine indifference. But there was an undeniability in the way they blossomed together, in how life sucked a whole lot less. Ymir irritated her just enough to motivate her to do her schoolwork, and Annie held Ymir back every time it looked like she was about to shove her fist up her dad’s ass. Both of their repulsion towards emotional vulnerability meant that they never had to deal with uncomfortable moments, and they never expected anything out of one another. It was a partnership that Annie...liked.</p><p>And once she realized she actually liked it, something manifested within her, too fast for her to stop - <em> longing.  </em></p><p>Not for Ymir’s goblin-looking ass, but for something else. </p><p>(If the whole platonic soulmate thing worked out so well...did that mean the romantic one would too? </p><p>That was something that replayed in her mind at night.)</p><p>Annie had been fine alone all those years. Sure, she had friends, but she never made any meaningful connections with them. She was cold and aloof, and they didn’t interest her enough for her to care. This never bothered her -</p><p>until she let herself think a little too hard about the whole soulmate thing. And then, she couldn’t stop thinking about it. It was a crack in her wall, one she couldn’t immediately seal, and once it was there, she could do nothing to erase the fact that it <em> had </em>been there, that there was something fundamentally different about her perspective of the world. </p><p>Ymir and Annie were alone together - two reclusive assholes who could only ever tolerate each other. The companionship was nice and comfortable, something she didn’t know she desired until she had it. But then she thought about the other person supposedly tied to her heart, and suddenly, Annie was longing. </p><p>Annie didn’t long. It was beneath her - too vulnerable, too emotional, too <em> common </em>. </p><p>She didn’t <em> want </em>to want her soulmate. She couldn’t long for someone she’s never seen or met before. </p><p>But that didn’t stop her from imagining it, though. How, secretly, buried under layers of frigid ice, she yearned to be seen, to be touched<em> , </em> to be loved <em> . </em> She craved <em> intimacy, </em>and who else was to give it to her other than her soulmate? This was how their world worked, and if Annie had to put her faith in anything, maybe she could put a little bit of it in this. </p><p>But then this brings us to her problem. </p><p>Once she accepted and actually began to maybe look forward to the fact that she had someone out there, she became overtaken by a familiar feeling - one she had felt before but never acknowledged: anxiety. </p><p>Who could actually be Annie’s soulmate? What was wrong enough with them that they were paired with <em> her? </em>Would they get along? Would they annoy her? </p><p>Or the worst case scenario: Would they be like her <em> father </em>?</p><p>And now that Annie actually knew something about her soulmate - would they be judgemental? Were they actually bougie like Ymir suggested?  Because Annie usually couldn’t care less about other people one way or the other, but that didn’t mean that other people felt the same way. What if the woman didn’t like that she wore a hoodie nearly everyday? What if she didn’t like the fact that she owned a repair shop? They were reputable and did pretty well, but what if she was so snobby that she looked down upon manual labor? </p><p>So while Annie really wanted to meet her soulmate, she also really <em> didn’t </em>want to either. </p><p>The feeling of panic that washed over her when she thought about how close the other woman was to her, how close <em> she </em> was to <em> her, </em>was the biggest adrenaline rush she’s ever gotten, and it lasted throughout the rest of the week. Her eyes, which were usually lidded with disinterest, were just the slightest bit wider, and while she tried to put the incident out of her mind, she couldn’t deny that she was tense every time they left the apartment. </p><p>For the first few days of Ymir’s plan, they couldn’t avoid work to stalk the nearest luxury apartments, so instead, Ymir spent entirely too much time and gas doing drive-by’s to the most popular complexes listed on yelp in the morning, during lunch, and when they got off. </p><p>But there was not even a spark of light within the first week, which wasn’t exactly surprising. The manager had said she was looking to move within the next few months, but Ymir was just as anxious about this as Annie was (but in a completely different way) so she was too eager to sit still. Actively looking meant that she couldn’t dwell on the fact that she missed her, and that meant that their first week on the hunt was rather busy. </p><p>(She probably should’ve been a little more concerned with the fact that <em> Ymir </em> had been the one driving, searching desperately for that blinding light to erupt from Annie’s chest, but, well, the thought never occurred to her. She was too busy trying not to become violently ill every time they drove past an apartment building to notice, truthfully.)</p><p>When the first 4 days turn out to be failures, Ymir decides to kick it up a notch and get all of their errands done on Saturday. </p><p>“We’ll be moving around the city, so we’ll cover more ground,” she’d said. “There aren’t any tours on sunday’s, and saturdays are a hotbed for people tryin’ to move here. Open houses, apartment tours, <em> city </em>tours - it’s the best day to be on the lookout.” </p><p>And Annie didn’t know enough to refute that (Ymir was the one who dealt with all of the apartment stuff early on. She was more picky than she let on, and Annie didn’t care one way or the other, so she let the other woman have free reign), but that didn’t mean she couldn’t complain. They procrastinated on a <em> lot </em>of things, so this really meant an all day thing. </p><p>If she wasn’t so grumpy about that, she would almost be impressed by Ymir’s forethought and planning. </p><p>So here they are, sitting on the patio of a pizza joint just across the street from #3 on Ymir’s yelp list. They’d gotten a rather early start and had been all around the city, but even Ymir had to concede to her grumbling stomach when lunch time hit. Still, she chose their restaurant with her plan in mind. #3 on her list just happened to be on the same street as #6 and #11, which meant they were covering those potential spots as well. </p><p>She’s already tired from just 4 hours of existing in public, and with Ymir sagging in her seat with her long legs sprawled out underneath their table, she can tell she feels the same. </p><p>Truthfully, Annie has a gut feeling that all this trouble was for naught. Perhaps in a month or two, when the projected date of her supposed soulmate’s move-in comes, they might have better luck, but wandering around like headless chickens, hoping for the smallest sign that she’s in the city with them doesn’t seem like it’s working.</p><p>Ymir doesn’t seem to come to the same conclusion, however, because with the determined glint in her eye, she seems intent on carrying out the rest of the day as planned, though there is a firm frown tugging at the corner of her lips that makes her look scarier than she usually does. </p><p>That face just leads to more of Annie’s apprehension, so she doesn’t bother to glance up at her for the rest of lunch, instead choosing to make her way through the rest of the pizza box while she scrolls idley through her phone. Ymir herself is grumbling under her breath, glaring at pedestrians passing them by without meaning to.</p><p>It isn’t until a couple of teenagers walk past, muttering, “look at the mug on that one,” that Annie looks up from her phone. She throws a leg out, tripping the nearest one, and Ymir’s bark of laughter sounds from beside her.</p><p>The kid is scowling as he catches his footing, and he whirls on them, ready for a fight - but the combination of Ymir’s nasty sneer and Annie’s darkened gaze is enough to send him stumbling back into his friends. With a string of curses aimed specifically at them, they all take off down the street.</p><p>Ymir begins to snicker and Annie’s lip quirks just the slightest bit up in amusement. </p><p>“Fucking punks. My mug is beautiful, actually,” Ymir comments, throwing her chin up arrogantly. </p><p>She releases a snort in response. “Beautiful isn’t how I would - ” and she stops dead in her seat. Her jaw works for a few seconds, but the rest of her body is frozen in shock.</p><p>Ymir really wasn’t being dramatic when she said that the light burned the hell out of her eyes, because this was bright. Like really fucking bright. Like so fucking bright that they had to practically be on top of whoever was making Ymir’s light go off. </p><p>And all that anxiety comes rushing up all at once.</p><p><em> Holy shit. Both of us in one week? </em> She thinks incredulously to herself, still too shocked to move or breathe or do much of anything.</p><p>“What’s that look for, freak? Got something on my face or somethin’?” Ymir asks, scrunching up her features as she scrutinizes Annie. </p><p>“Light bright,” a synapse in her brain misfires, and she’s not even really sure what she’s said, but Ymir is looking at her like she’s crazy, so she guesses she sounds as unintelligible as she feels.</p><p>“Light bright? Is that tiny-person speak for something?” </p><p>Stiffly, she shakes her head, raising her finger to point at where she guesses is her chest, practically in a trance. “Bright light,” she amends, near a whisper. “Light very bright.” </p><p>And it’s Ymir’s turn to grow concerned. “Why the fuck are you speaking like a caveman, Annes? Did you hit your head in the five seconds I took my eyes off of you?” </p><p>Something snaps, and Annie jerks awake, wiping at her eyes when tears begin to leak from it. “Your light! You’re lit up! I can fucking see your light!” She all but shouts, and it startles Ymir so much that she nearly falls out of her chair. </p><p>“<em> My </em> light?” Ymir asks dumbly, pointing at her own chest. “Like my light light? <em> That </em>light?” She continues on, mouth open like a gaping fish. </p><p>Annie nods furiously, and they sit there, staring at each other dumbly for several moments before someone sitting near them clears their throat. </p><p>“Doesn’t that mean you guys should get moving?” A pleasant looking man suggests, looking at them meaningfully. </p><p>And faintly, she’s aware that they’re both nodding in agreement, but instead of moving, they’re still blinking blankly at each other.</p><p>“C’mon ladies - get a move on! You don’t wanna miss them, do you?” The woman sitting across from the man encourages, clapping her hands together to get their attention. </p><p>Boy, does that work. In the next moment, they’re both snapping to attention, furiously snatching at the items on the table to make their escape out of the patio. Behind them, there are some calls for good luck, but they don’t turn back to acknowledge them.</p><p>Annie has Ymir’s wrist firmly in her hand, and as she runs down the street, something twists inside her, an inherent sense of wrongness that has her sitting back on her heels to stop them. Ymir jerks backwards but adjusts readily when Annie pulls her across the street, dodging and weaving through traffic in such a way that can only be done by people who have lived in the city all their lives and who give the absolute least fucks possible. Ymir, who grew up in the more rural parts of the state, almost has a heart attack every time she watches Annie nonchalantly side-step incoming cars. Now, however, she remains limp in her hand, pliant even as a car honks warningly at them. </p><p>By now, Ymir is looking less panicked and more horror-filled, which is a feeling Annie can relate to, but she doesn’t stop. She leads her down the block until the brightness even from her peripheral is almost too much to bear.</p><p>“Number 11,” Annie mutters to herself as she stops in front of a building, feeling something like satisfaction well up within her as she does so. “What a coincidence.”</p><p>Ymir, who’s still struck by the rapid fire events, looks even paler than before. “U-uh, Annes?”</p><p>“Hm, your soulmate must be in there right now,” she concludes, looking towards the front doors with intention. “And probably without their guide, too. Do you think the manager will let us camp out in the lobby?”</p><p>“Um,” Ymir supplies unhelpfully from behind her, but she doesn’t pay her any mind.</p><p>It’s early enough that she’s sure that whoever's in there must come down at least once more. It’s saturday, and most people tend to go out (unless they’re like Annie and Ymir who prefer to get high in their apartment and play video games all night). Assuming that they’re the type to want to spend their night out, that means that they’ll be leaving sometime later....which is not exactly ideal because it’s only 12:30 in the afternoon and they could be spending several, several hours outside this apartment building waiting for them. </p><p>But that’s also based on an assumption that they’ll leave at all. Large, confined buildings were among the top 10 hardest locations for soulmate matches, according to Maria Daily, especially when the other person didn’t have their guide with them. </p><p>This was going to be difficult. They had to play it smart or else they really would lose their chance. Playing it safe was probably going to be the best and only option. They could park their car in front of the building and camp out until the person left. It could take hours, and they would have to explain to the manager in the front office so no one called the cops on them for loitering, but they could do it. </p><p>Annie nods her head decisively, already committed to her plan, and makes to head towards the office to explain the situation. Ymir’s hand on her shoulder stops her, however.</p><p>“Wait! I-I have to pee,” Ymir explains, looking a little crazed with how wide her eyes are. </p><p>Annie turns to look at her incredulously. “Are you - ” she stops to shake her head. “Alright, go to the restroom. We’re going to be staking out this place for a while, so make sure you won’t have to go later on.”</p><p>Her face only seems to pinch more, and Annie finally seems to clue in on her hesitance, narrowing her eyes as she studies her body language through the light.</p><p>“Ymir, are you - ”</p><p>“Whelp! Let’s go then!” Ymir says very suddenly, grabbing onto Annie’s shoulders to steer her away, but Annie digs her heels in. </p><p>“There are bathrooms in the lobby. Let’s just stay here,” she says, eyeing her suspiciously. She doesn’t want to take a chance and leave, just in the slightest chance that they came down from the apartment while they were away, so she pulls Ymir towards the building instead, ignoring the panicked squeak that sounds behind her.</p><p>When they reach the front doors, it’s an empty lobby that awaits them. </p><p>“Must be giving out a tour,” Ymir mutters, before they spot the bathroom. She opens the door, and when Annnie moves to go in with her, Ymir holds out a hand, raising an eyebrow. </p><p>“But - ” she starts, and then stops, shaking her head once she realizes what exactly she was protesting against. She sets her lips in a firm line and leans back against the wall near the door, feeling much like a jailer the way she scrutinizes Ymir. “Hurry it up, then.” </p><p>Rolling her eyes, she salutes and closes the door behind her. Annie keeps her eyes on the hallway that leads from the elevators, toying with the strings of her hoodie unconsciously. The doors to the front swing open, and it draws Annie’s eyes. A family passes through with little fuss, and she sighs, settling in a little better against the wall. </p><p>The sharp <em> ding </em>from the elevator sounds, and mindless chatter fills the hall. </p><p>“Yeah, next thursday!”</p><p>“Really? That’s so soon. Do you think - ”</p><p>“Thank you so much for your time!”</p><p>“No problem. Have a good day now!”</p><p>“See ya later, babe! Text me when you get home, alright?”</p><p>“Will do!”</p><p>Annie straightens up, knocking on the door behind her. “Ymir, hurry the hell up!” She hisses, trying to scan through the crowd that passes them by. The property manager makes his way into the office, but the 5 or 6 people passing by are all a blur of faces. She tries to scan their faces, looking for any discernible feature, any slight shine or sparkle that might alert her to their importance but they pass quickly and leave the building.</p><p>Something settles in the bottom of her stomach, and she fidgets helplessly, growing more and more impatient as Ymir dawdles. The property manager finally notices her and gives her a look, as if he somehow knows that she’s not supposed to be there.</p><p>“These restrooms aren’t for public use,” he informs her, a little snidely, somehow still staring down at her from his place behind his desk.</p><p>She has to resist the urge to immediately scowl back at him. She needs his cooperation if this is going to work, and pissing him off won’t do them any favors. Annie presses off the wall, trying not to kick at the door to remind Ymir that this situation is <em> sensitive </em>and that she’s making Annie anxious, and approaches the desk. She’s not the most approachable or friendly looking girl around, but she tries her hardest to look at least a little presentable, erasing the crease between her eyebrows and softening the hard line of her lips. </p><p>“Hey, I’ve gotta question,” she asks, shoving her hands into her pockets as she steps in front of him. He glances up, raising an eyebrow and nodding his head as if to tell her to continue. “Do you ever get any soulmate matches here? Like, do you have any policies on that?”</p><p>He blinks, unimpressed by the question. “Not while I’ve been on duty, no. The laws are rather liberal in that regard, but our personal policy is that you may not enter actual residential areas. The other person must come down from their floor so that you can complete the match,” he responds in a monotone voice that grates on her nerves.</p><p>But still, the answer is a favorable one. </p><p>“So you wouldn’t mind if my soulmate and I hung out here to wait for hers to come down? I don’t think they have their guide with them, but the light led us to this apartment building so we’re trying to stay until we catch sight of them,” Annie explains, looking a little hopeful.</p><p>Then man, however, does not share the sentiment. </p><p>“That’s loitering,” he retorts blandly, though the flicker of emotion that flashes through his eyes betrays his facade. “And could be described as borderline creepy.”</p><p>Annie recoils as if she’s been physically struck by his words. “How the hell is that creepy?” She demands a little harshly, indignant and almost scandalized by his response. “This is literally how our society works. We <em> all </em>go through this!” </p><p>The manager shrugs, still looking unmoved by her explanation. “I don’t agree with it. Soulmates are fickle and irrational. To be tied to one person and expect it to work out 100 percent of the time is a ridiculous notion.”</p><p>“You don’t agree with the concept of <em> soulmates </em>?” Annie deadpans, voice slow and dangerous in its quality, like she’s talking to a particularly idiotic customer at the shop. She’s now unable to hide the traces of disgust and contempt that line the edge of her face, which is probably the first sign that things are about to turn ugly.</p><p>“Yes, that should be rather obvious.”</p><p>“You don’t agree with extreme compatibility - with absolute certainty. You don’t agree with a love that never fades, that’s supposed to make this shithole world actually tolerable,” if possible, the timbre of her voice becomes darker and the look in her eye is akin to how one would look when about to step on a particularly disgusting bug in reaction to his condescension. “How can you <em> disagree </em> with an indisputable part of our society - one that most people actually fucking appreciate?”</p><p>If the Annie of 8 years ago, the one before Ymir and all the soulmate business hit her like a freight train, could see her right now, she’d be horrified. Absolutely flabbergasted. The Annie of the present would feel much the same if she could think about anything other than the fact this man just ascended into her top 5 Most Punchable Faces. </p><p>Sitting here, defending the principal and the emotions behind soulmates like she was actually, personally offended by his opinion was a new type of low for her. </p><p>But she didn’t give a fuck. She was <em> pissed </em>. </p><p>“I just do,” the man replied flatly, not bothering to hide the look of disdain from his face. “It’s nothing more than a silly little fairytale that people obsess over to distract themselves from the crushing weight of reality. It's the obligation of love and not the uniting of it.”</p><p>And that strikes a nerve that Annie didn’t even know she had - because that’s what she feared, right? Being the recipient of an obliging love - one that’s not true. One that could never truly see her. One that’s just <em> stuck </em>with her.</p><p>That trail of thought only stokes the coals of indignation and fury and contempt that all rage within her stomach. </p><p>Her nostrils flare out, eyes darkening, and lips twist up into a snarl. “Just because <em> you </em>don’t believe in it doesn’t mean you get to - ” </p><p>“Woah, what’s happening here?”</p><p>“ - stop people from experiencing it.” </p><p>Ymir had approached from behind in the time it took for Annie to adopt her patented, “i’m so fucking pissed off that I might break someone’s fucking jaw” look. It’s probably been a few years since she’s last seen that particular murderous gaze - a bar fight that ended with 4 stitches to her eyebrow, she recalls - so the alarm in Ymir’s voice is not unfounded. </p><p>Her arguments have little effect on the man behind the desk, who squares his shoulders and turns his nose up at her. “My final answer is no. You may not ‘hang out’ here and <em> stalk </em> that poor person. Now I suggest you leave, or I’ll be calling the cops.” </p><p>And that has Annie going from ‘i might break someone’s fucking jaw’ to ‘there’s literally nothing going to stop me from breaking their fucking jaw.’ </p><p>Her face twists, and she snarls - like actually fucking snarls - and <em> finally </em>, that’s enough to get the man to react. He jumps in his seat, and just as it looks like Annie’s about to lunge for him, Ymir grabs her and hoists her over her shoulder, trying valiantly to dodge her kicking feet and curled fists. </p><p>“Let me <em> down, </em> Ymir!” She hisses, clawing at her back. “I’m gonna tear this fucking <em> evolutionsbremse’s </em> scrotum to shreds! If that <em> stück scheiße </em> ruined this for us, I swear to GOD, <em> ” </em>She snarls as she’s being hoisted out the door, face as livid as she’s ever been and an accent that’s been buried leaking back into her voice.</p><p>People are staring as they leave the building, but they may as well be invisible to her. Her pulse is pounding, and her head is throbbing, and she’s quite literally seeing red. </p><p>Ymir has to pull her to the side of the building, out of sight of everyone else, and when she’s finally released, she throws out a kick at the nearest dumpster, relishing in the startling sound that erupts from it. </p><p>“T-That absolute <em> backpfeifengesicht! </em> Stalking!? How dare he!?” she seethes, clenching and unclenching her fist as she paces. </p><p>“C’mon, babe - chill out,” Ymir tries to reason, only to immediately recoil and hold out her hands in front of her when she sees the sharp glare that’s thrown her way. </p><p>Annie takes a harsh breath through her nose and looks to the floor, trying to dispel at least some of the anger so she can think properly. Letting some condescending douchebag rile her up like this was a new low for her. She was usually composed - usually let her anger simmer coolly in her stomach until it dissipated completely. Now, she can only blame her sensitivity and her subsequent reaction to it on the whole soulmates fiasco. Having someone standing directly in the way of her best friend finding her soulmate was definitely an easy way to let her rage boil over. </p><p>Speaking of Ymir - when Annie is finally cognizant enough to look at her soulmate and not see a red haze surrounding her, she realizes that Ymir's tanned skin suddenly has a sickly pallor to it. Sweat is clinging to the sides of her face, and even though she tries to hide her hands in her pockets, it’s clear that her body is trembling. </p><p>Annie freezes.</p><p>“...Ymir? What’s wrong?”</p><p>Ymir shrugs a little manically, letting out a humorless huff of laughter. “Had a bit of a panic attack in the bathroom, but your yelling sure as hell distracted me before I could fully have a freak out - thank <em> fuck </em>.”</p><p>And Annie’s eyes widen in horror, the energy from her earlier angry outburst converting to worry. “A panic attack?” She asks, hurriedly trying to recall a time when Ymir has ever had such a thing and coming up blank. She’s not even really sure what classifies as a panic attack, but judging from the look of her soulmate, it must be serious. </p><p>“What - why did you,” and then Annie realizes. She stops short, mouth opening and closing, as if trying to figure out what to say. It’d been so obvious before, but she was too focused on the task at hand to pay attention to it.</p><p>Figures that Ymir would have the same reaction to finding her soulmate that she did. They really were a match made in Hell. </p><p>She swallows the lump in her throat, and Ymir grimaces a little, like she knows Annie understands. They stare at each other a little awkwardly for a few moments before Ymir kicks at the dirt on the floor. “Guessing the cunt wasn’t too happy about us camping out in front of the building?” She jests, a little weakly, trying to act like she wasn’t relieved.</p><p>And Annie let out a heavy sigh, trying to bury the embers of her anger before they started up again. “Doesn’t matter anyways. Lost my temper, and I guess your person made a break for it while we were distracted. What shit luck,” she curses, shoving her own hands into her pockets and frowning intensely at the ground.</p><p>“I guess the universe thought we’ve been coasting on the good life for a little too long. Not surprised that it wants to shit on us now,” Ymir mutters a little darkly, and there’s nothing for Annie to do but agree with her. Two misses in one week really didn’t speak well of the amount of karma her and Ymir have probably racked up over the years - and that’s not even counting the shit they probably did in a past life. </p><p>Annie lets out a heavy sigh. </p><p>“Whatever. Let’s just go home. I’m sick of today.”</p><p>Ymir is all too ready to agree. “Too many fucking L’s this week, man.”</p><p>And then they walk down the street, get into their car, and then proceed to get blasted on their couch, trying their best to ignore the nightmare that has been this past week. </p><hr/><p>Three weeks later, and there’s still not even a flicker of light for either of them. It’s been a little awkward, sharing glances with each other all throughout the day and making sure that they’re nearly always within sight of each other (which, granted, isn’t that hard since they literally work and live together). It’s made room for a bit of tension between them, and more than once, they’ve snapped and growled at each other, both feeling suffocated by the constant surveillance. Annie never had a sibling, but she thinks that she could probably liken her relationship with Ymir to it. Yelling at each other and making passive aggressive comments, only to hover by their room and ask to go get food with each other.</p><p>It’s weird. And unsettling. And irritating.</p><p>Ymir’s been as jumpy as an alleycat lately, and it’s even started to freak their <em> actual </em> alleycat out. Or Annie’s poor cat at least (Ymir pretends she hates him, but she’s really just asshurt because he doesn’t want anything to do with her). Every time they hear a honk (from their now permanently open window they keep ajar ‘ <em> just to save time in case they walk by again’ - </em> because that worked <em> so </em> well before <em> ), </em>Ymir twitches and tenses, and the cat, affectionately named Bastard, bristles, a yowl beginning at the base of his throat like he can just sense Ymir’s bad energy. </p><p>Annie’s had to lock Bastard inside her room a time or two because she couldn’t psychologically handle the showdown her soulmate and her cat had every time something set either of them off.</p><p>So yeah - this is how that’s going.</p><p>As the weeks drag on, she can tell the tension is growing to near insurmountable levels - Ymir because she’s eager to find Annie’s soulmate already and Annie because she knows that Ymir is eager. If her soulmate was actually going to move to Trost, it was supposed to be soon, and she couldn’t lie and say it wasn’t making her nearly just as jumpy as Ymir was.</p><p>After that terrible, terrible miss at that Yelp apartment, neither of them had been all that energetic about soulmates. Ymir had looked nauseous all the way home, and Annie had wallowed in that residual anger, coupled with the rising guilt and anxiety she’s sure Ymir felt the first time they went through this soulmate disaster.</p><p>There weren’t very many words exchanged between them when they got home. It was clear as day to both of them what happened, and the actual tangible embarrassment that would have burst from Ymir if she had to talk about her feelings would have been too much for the both of them.</p><p>Ymir was scared shitless at the prospect of finding her romantic soulmate. Annie didn’t particularly know why, but she had a feeling that vulnerability and dependence and all that romantic stuff was terrifying to someone who usually bit first and asked questions later (if at all).</p><p>So Annie never brought it up with her. Sure, Ymir knew that she was keeping an eye out and had her own plan, but it was mutually agreed that they didn’t speak about it. </p><p>She herself had been speculating about that day when she had a moment to actually sit and think without imagining the landlord’s face beneath her foot. Ymir had continued to drive for most of the next month, but during the times Annie had physically wrestled the keys out of her hand, Ymir had hissed and clawed at the window when she saw her turn down a familiar street. The both of them could barely breathe every time they passed it, but to her chagrin, there was nothing. </p><p>A visitor, Annie surmised at first. <em> That </em>could pose a problem, especially if the visitor didn’t live in the city. </p><p>But then she thought about it some more, trying to look past her rage-tinted glasses, and remembered something. </p><p><em> The landlord hadn’t been there when they walked in </em>.</p><p>He’d been giving someone a tour before they got there and finished only minutes before Annie noticed that Ymir’s light had dimmed considerably. This was a bit of a guess, but coupled with the fact that her <em> own </em>soulmate had been on a tour only so many days before left her feeling a bit suspicious. That seemed like too much of a coincidence for her to not at least consider. </p><p>But that also brought up a whole other avenue of thought. Did she dare think that their soulmates were each other’s soulmates as well? That might be <em> too </em> much of a stretch, but fate could be strange like that. </p><p>It would be all too convenient, however, if that were the case, and she didn’t think that she was lucky enough for some convenience in her life. </p><p>All Annie hoped for was that she really didn’t ruin their chance. Even if Ymir’s soul practically left her body every time they heard mention of romantic soulmates, she knew that that didn’t mean Ymir didn’t want one. It just meant that she was a wuss, and a little insecure (she could relate). Losing this person <em> wasn’t </em> an option, <em> couldn’t </em>be an option, but all she could do for now was wait. </p><p>Fate was lucky she was patient. </p><p>1 month and 13 days after the first soulmate fiasco, Annie wakes to the sound of tires screeching and the subsequent crash of metal. Her door is open (and so is that fucking window), and her subconscious, which just barely registers the urgency of the situation and thus just barely manages to wake her up, has her trudging towards the window to see the street below her. </p><p>The late morning sun blinds her momentarily, and she rubs clumsily at her eyes, leaning heavily against the windowpane. The cars don’t seem to be too messed up - just a rear ending that has one man screaming a little too passionately at another while the rest of the street watches. Annie rolls her eyes, preparing to turn away and crawl back into bed for at least another hour. </p><p>Then something catches her eye, drawing her attention back to the street below.</p><p>A flash of black on the sidewalk, too furry to just be a blur. </p><p>Annie snaps to attention, fully awake. </p><p>“That little shit,” she grinds out, turning on her heel towards her room with a growl. She grabs for the nearest jacket, zipping it up halfway, and throws on a pair of sweats and some shoes. She reaches for her keys and her phone, and then she’s storming out of the apartment, ready to go to war. </p><p>She’s not exaggerating when she says that dealing with that fucking cat when he’s in a mood is actually like fighting a battle. It was a test of wills and patience and understanding your enemy better than your enemy understood you. Most times, it always resulted in the latter. </p><p>He really was a little shit, but that was just part of his charm. </p><p>She found him a few years ago in the alley between buildings, sitting in a pile of his own blood with his face looking like a warzone. Still, he had the gall to hiss and bat at her with his paws even though it was clear that he could barely move at all. It was one of the most impressive things she’d seen in a while (in like - ever, actually), so she decided that something that fought that hard to live deserved to reap the fruits of his efforts and took him to the vet. </p><p>She should’ve known that Bastard would’ve grown on her. Let them in through just the tiniest crack in her wall, and she would never be rid of them. It was like fungus or something. </p><p>But while she may have grown fond of this stupid creature, she couldn’t deny that he was still a little feral. It is, ultimately, how the cat managed to escape out the window of a 5th story fire escape. She should’ve known better than to let Ymir leave the window open, but she’d figured that the brat was too spoiled and pampered to want to run away. Apparently, Annie figured wrong. </p><p>Honestly, she should be sending Ymir out after him, but she knows that after a few hisses and one of those admittedly intimidating charges, Ymir would come running back with her tail between her legs, looking grumpy and murderous and even a little bit sheepish. </p><p>If she wants her stupid cat back, she has to go get him herself.</p><p>If only that was easier said than done. </p><p>Once she gets down to street level and finds him around one of his former haunts, he, obviously, decides to hightail it out of there, leaving her no choice but to chase him up and down alleys. He hides behind dumpsters and crosses streets in a way that puts the fear of god into her. Every so often, she huffs and glares, growling out, “I’m done fucking following you, cat. If you don’t let me catch you, I’m leaving your ass here.” </p><p>Suffice to say, she ends up following him another mile and a half away from her apartment before she snaps and begins to <em> actually </em>chase after him. He darts out from behind the buildings with her hot on his heels, and she nearly gains on him, until a nearby dog barks, scaring him so badly that he jerks sideways. Annie tries to follow the movement, but she is but a mere bipedal mortal with dramatically less grace than a cat and almost ends up twisting her knee trying to keep up with him. She can only watch helplessly, and in slow-motion, as a dog begins to bark at the bastard, causing him to yowl as he scrambles up the nearest tree. </p><p>Annie lets out an anguished groan through harsh pants as the severity of the situation hits her, hands on her knees. </p><p>“I am so sorry! Spanky, stop it right now! Bad dog!” A girl admonishes her dog, pulling the leash towards her while the little corgi growls and pulls. </p><p>Annie side eyes the little dog before glancing up at the cat in the tree, who currently laid, curled around the bark of a branch like his life depended on it. She sends him an unimpressed glare, and he only hisses back, as if to say, <em> what of it? It’s still a dog. </em></p><p>“I’m so sorry! Is that your cat?” The girl says again, looking worriedly between Annie and Bastard. </p><p>Annie lets out a long sigh before straightening, shoving her hands in her pockets. “Yeah, the cat’s mine,” she mutters disdainfully, already dreading the next hour of her life. </p><p>“I…” she trails off, holding the leash to her chin fearfully as she stares up at the demonic creation currently releasing those unholy, ear-bleeding screeches. “I don’t think you’re getting him down by yourself.”</p><p>And she has a sinking feeling that the other girl is right. Bastard is fussy on an average day, but with him in panic mode like this means that she may not come out of this with the muscle in her arms fully intact. How wonderful.</p><p>“I-I can call the fire department for y-you if you want!” She volunteers, shifting anxiously beside her. “B-because it’s my fault and stuff,” she mumbles, not fully able to look Annie in the eye. </p><p>Annie frowns at the behavior, and the girl whimpers a little. “It’s fine. I’ll figure it out,” she responds flatly, though she can’t deny that getting someone else to do this for her sounds pretty nice. </p><p>“Please! I i-insist!”</p><p>She’s already pulling out her phone by the time Annie decides to shrug in agreement. If the other girl was so eager, she wouldn’t deny the help. </p><p>After a few minutes and a few rapid, angry words shared between her and the bastard, the girl comes back. </p><p>“Uh - so someone’s coming out to help us. They - they don’t normally do these kinds of things, but they decided to help us anyway,” she says with a relieved but anxious smile. The poor operator probably felt bad for the girl, Annie thinks. </p><p>“Thanks,” she responds, folding her arms over her chest. “You don’t have to wait, though. It’s fine.”</p><p>“But it’s my fault!” </p><p>Annie gives her a wry look. “The stupid cat was already running away from me. At least now I have a chance to actually catch him. It’s fine. Finish walking your mutt.” </p><p>It takes a firm look and a few more interrupted attempts at refusal before the girl reluctantly retreats, looking back worriedly before disappearing further into the park. Annie sighs in relief. Some people really were too nice. </p><p>It takes another 20 minutes for the fire department to get there. During that time, she’s taken to leaning back against the tree and shooting barbed insults to her furry companion, all the while he continues to growl deep in his chest. By now, it sounds more like whining than anything, so she has hope that he’ll eventually let himself be extracted from the tree. </p><p>Off-handedley, almost boredly at this point, she threatens, “When we get home, I’m making an appointment at the groomers I know you hate. When she straps you down, I’m not gonna be sympathetic at all.” </p><p>And somehow, it seems like he understands her, because he begins to yowl again, looking and sounding all sorts of betrayed.</p><p>“Wow, I think he understood you,” a woman’s voice has her snapping her head forward. </p><p><em> Fire department’s here </em> , Annie thinks faintly, face going slack as the firefighter approaches and stops just in front of her. She has to swallow around the lump that’s suddenly formed in her throat because, <em> holy fuck - she is so gay. </em></p><p>The other woman is in standard fire department uniform - a collared t-shirt, tight cargo pants, and black boots - and there’s just something about the way it clings to her body, taught against her muscles and curves, that immediately draws her eyes and causes a flush to rise on her skin. </p><p>An instant attraction, Annie realizes later. The way her mouth goes dry and her fingers begin to tremble are a sure sign of it, as foreign as both feelings are. She’s never wanted to memorize the planes of someone’s face before - never looked so intensely at the curve of someone’s jaw or the dip of someone’s lips. </p><p>And it’s only been about 30 seconds since she’s been there. </p><p>Weird - but she has more pressing matters.</p><p>Another voice joins them, filling the silence that sat between them while Annie was too stupefied to even breathe, let alone respond. “Phew, he doesn’t look too happy,” a man whistles, looking up at the cat. He glances at Annie. “This yours?”</p><p>Annie nods. “Name’s Bastard,” she mentions lowly. “Got out of my apartment this morning and I chased him all the way to this park. A dog ran him up the tree a while ago.”</p><p>She’s trying not to look at the female firefighter so much, but when she hums in acknowledgment, her eyes are drawn to her anyways. The woman’s already looking at her when she turns, looking thoughtful, if a bit amused by the situation. </p><p>“Bastard, indeed. This does not look like it'll be fun,” he mentions, rocking back on his heels as he side eyes his companion meaningfully.</p><p>The woman shakes her head firmly. “My senior officer needs to demonstrate the operation before I’m allowed to attempt it. After you, Lieutenant,” she responds, very seriously, but Annie can detect the underhandedness immediately. Her lip twitches in response. </p><p>“You’re hardly a rookie,” the man grumbles, frowning and flinching a little when Bastard narrows his eyes further at him. He acquiesces, though, with little fight and begins to trudge back to his car. The woman follows him after another glance at Annie, and she feels it like a lightning bolt down her spine. </p><p><em> Jesus Christ, you’re gay, but you’re not </em> <b> <em>that</em> </b> <em> gay. Get it together, dumbass! </em>She hisses inwardly, trying to recompose herself before they got back. </p><p>She looks up at the sound of metal clanking together and promptly wishes she didn’t. The firefighter is there, holding up the ladder, biceps flexed and shirt pulled tight against her stomach. </p><p>Annie nearly chokes on her saliva at the sight. Almost frantically, she brushes a hand beneath her nose, looking for blood. When she finds none, she can only hope that her reaction wasn’t noticeable. </p><p>“On a scale of 1 to 10, how likely do you think it is that he full on attacks me,” the man asks as he approaches, pulling on the standard firefighter jacket. </p><p>“Oh, that’s a hard 11,” Annie responds immediately, and that earns a small snort from the other woman that has her stuffing down the urge to puff up in pride. </p><p>“Great,” the man groans, tucking his face behind the high collar of his jacket and beginning to put on the gloves. </p><p>“Good luck, Lieutenant,” the woman says, almost grave in her tone, and Annie echoes the sentiment, looking towards her adopted offspring warily. </p><p>The ladder is set and stabilized against the tree once he’s fully prepared, and after a short prayer she can just barely hear him say underneath his breath, he begins to climb. Annie tenses the higher he goes and the louder Bastard’s hisses and yowls become. Next to her, she can feel the woman cringe likewise. </p><p>“Was he feral at one point?” She asks, as if she’s genuinely curious, and Annie winces. </p><p>“Uh - yeah. Found him after a bad fight with the other cats in the alley. I thought it was dumb to just let him go back out and fight again, so I kept him,” Annie explains, trying to sound bored and uncaring as a defense mechanism for how off-kilter she feels at the woman’s presence.</p><p>The firefighter nods in understanding. “That was probably smart. And kind. Cats are -”</p><p>“SON OF A BITCH!” A shout startles the both of them. They look up to find the man holding one arm out, as if to hold the cat back from attacking him, while his other is latched in a death grip around the ladder. Bastard is glaring at him dangerously, haunches raised as if he’s about to pounce. “Down, Satan - down! Do not attack!” </p><p>And Annie has to hide a laugh behind a cough, turning away so the other two didn’t think she was laughing at him. The female firefighter seems to see it, though, and grins slightly in response. </p><p>When Bastard actually swipes at the lieutenant and the man whimpers just a little bit out of reflex, Annie sighs and rolls her eyes, pitying the poor guy. If he’d’ve let her, she would’ve climbed up the damn ladder herself, but she doesn’t think that’s standard company procedure. The only thing she can do for him now is try to calm the situation down. </p><p>“Bastard,” she calls out to the top of the tree, leaning to one side with a hand on her hip as she resists the urge to pick at her nails boredly. “It’s feeding time. Cut it out so we can go home already.” Annie can just see the way Bastard’s ears perk up, just the slightest bit, at the familiar phrase, and she smirks in anticipation. </p><p>“Yeah, listen to mama, devil kitty. Be a nice little bastard and - AHA! Got you!” he cries out victoriously once he nabs the cat, holding him out in front of his body while the feline hangs by the scruff of his neck.</p><p>Bastard’s limbs and claws are fully extended, and he’s growling and spitting fire from his eyes like someone cut off his tail. The other woman steps back fully once he reaches the ground, and he holds him out in front of him like a peace offering, looking at her pleadingly while he continues to dangle from his hand. Annie rolls her eyes and begins to unzip her jacket, revealing the tank top she slept in last night. She turns towards the cat, missing the way eyes widen at the sight of her newly exposed skin, and begins to neatly and systematically wrap the cat in a burrito. It’s the most effective way to calm him down surprisingly, and once he’s stuck like this, he cares very little to move. Thankfully, she’s had plenty of practice when it comes to this, sketchy handler and all, so once he’s fully in her arms, he only growls and protests a little before settling into her, chest continuing to rumble lowly just for the principle of it. </p><p>“You’ve got to be kidding me. You could’ve done that the whole time!?” The guy cries out incredulously, holding his hands to his head like this is the worst day of his life or something.</p><p>Annie glances up from her swaddled babe, trying not to look unimpressed by the guy that just did all of the hard work for her. “I couldn’t get up the tree,” she shrugs. “And he always likes to be comforted after being handled by someone he doesn’t like.”</p><p>“That’s sweet,” the other woman declares, glancing down at Bastard like one would do towards a baby while her partner slaps a hand to his face, exasperated.</p><p>“Yeah, well i’m not too big of a fan of him either, right now,” the guy sniffs a little, folding his arms over his chest. “But if you think it’s so darn sweet, you can start the report while I take a mental health break back over there,” he says, already heading back towards the SUV they parked a few yards away. </p><p>The other woman rolls her eyes but pulls out a clipboard anyways. “Name, address, date of birth?” She says, glancing up at Annie with those intense eyes of hers. They’re the strangest color - a stormy blue that looks more silver under the shadow of the tree - and it makes her shuffle a little bit in place, heart hammering a little too hard under their gaze. “Annie Leonhart. 1430 3rd street, apartment 528. March 22nd, 1994.” </p><p>The woman hums underneath her breath in response. Her pen path is smooth, and Annie can’t help but peak over at her handwriting. Of course, it’s neat and perfect, and she has to look away before she finds herself attracted to handwriting too. </p><p>“3rd street?” The woman mutters to herself after she’s finished, staring a little too hard at the paper. Annie raises an eyebrow in questioning. When she notices the look, she shakes her head and grimaces almost apologetically towards her. “Sorry, I just have a bad experience at that apartment complex.” </p><p>“Someone burn their kitchen down or something?” She asks, half-joking. </p><p>The woman’s face darkens, and Annie feels a sense of foreboding in the severity of that expression. “Unfortunately not. I recently just moved to the area and was looking for apartments, but…”</p><p>Something nags at her, and she squints her eyes. “But…?”</p><p>She looks up from where she’s been continuing to write the report, examining Annie’s face. Once she finds whatever she’s looking for, she smiles tightly. “Truthfully, there was nothing wrong with the apartment itself. I was actually interested in moving there, but...well, one of the residents put me off it, to put it lightly.” </p><p>“A resident?” She asks faintly. </p><p>A light flush spreads across the firefighter’s cheeks. It’s almost like she’s embarrassed by the memory, and Annie might’ve found it endearing if it weren’t for the fact that her breathing was beginning to fail. Anticipation and apprehension rises up her spine while the other woman finds her words.</p><p>“A woman yelled at me from her window on the day I took my tour. It was...a horrifying experience, and I decided not to return to it,” she explains almost sheepishly, shrugging one shoulder and glancing away just in time to miss the way Annie’s face transforms entirely. </p><p>In all of one moment, everything is startlingly clear. Annie can see this woman in her mind’s eye, standing below her window in a red scarf. She can see Ymir screeching and her running away and Annie missing her by mere moments. It’s a perfect play by play that she’s been repeating in her head for weeks, except now she actually has a face to imagine. And that face has her stomach dropping all too suddenly, has all the blood draining from her head, has her squeezing the cat in her arms tight enough for him to let out a <em> mrow </em>of alarm.</p><p>
  <em> Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck. This is not fucking real. This is not fucking happening. I can’t be this lucky. There’s no way she’s my - my - my - </em>
</p><p>Annie lets out a strangled noise at the back of her throat when the other woman’s hand (her <em> soulmate’s!! </em>hand) touches the bare skin on her shoulder. It burns pleasantly, and she couldn’t stop the flush that spreads dangerously across her chest if she wanted to. </p><p>“Are you okay, Miss Leonhart? You look a little faint,” the firefighter (her <em> soulmate!!) </em>asks in concern, bending down to get a closer look at her eyes. If possible, Annie turns an even brighter shade of red that she has to hide by turning her head sharply to the side.</p><p>Coughing, she nods a little frantically. “Y-yeah! I’m fine. S-sorry, I was just...trying to think if I knew any neighbors that were crazy enough to do that,” she explains a little quickly.</p><p>The other woman narrows her eyes. “And did you come up with anyone?”</p><p>Annie swallows tightly. <em> Yes, and I fucking live with that dumbass. </em> Instead, she tries to look genuinely sympathetic, but it’s hard when she feels so queasy. “No, sorry. Everyone’s pretty laid back there.”</p><p>The other woman seems more perturbed at that thought before she nods in acceptance and slowly does a glance over of Annie. “So like you, then?” She asks, a little too innocently. Annie can see that she tries to keep her face neutral, but it’s obvious in the way her eyes linger a little too long on her own that she’s interested in something more than polite small-talk.</p><p>A thrill runs up her spine. </p><p>Was her soulmate actually flirting with her? Even though she didn’t know they were soulmates?</p><p>Annie’s heart skips a few beats at just the possibility. </p><p>“S’pose so,” she responds, voice a little lower than it was before. “But I think I take it to a different level.”</p><p>“Oh?” The woman looks equal parts amused and intrigued, cocking her head a little when Annie nods and quirks her lips in a smirk. She does another appreciative glance, eyes lingering a second too long on her shoulders and her collarbones and her - </p><p>“Oi, Ackerman! We gotta scram!” Her partner calls out to them, causing them to jerk back to awareness. Annie swallows, trying to recover from how that gaze felt like it had left a burning trail across her skin.</p><p>The firefighter, now Ackerman, apparently, turns and nods before she faces Annie once more, a flicker of disappointment flashing across her features. She looks like she’s hesitating, and Annie hesitates because she hesitates, and all too soon, she’s nodding her head, quirking her lips a little in a small smile. “It was nice to meet you, Miss Leonhart,” she says, glancing at the bundle now sitting content in her arms, “and you as well, Bastard. Both of you, please take care.”</p><p><em> Wait - hold on a sec! </em>She wants to call out, already taking a step towards her retreating form, but her phone ringing in her pocket distracts her. </p><p>She glances down and glances back up. In all of a second, she decides to go for the phone. There’s no way she can stop the other woman and suddenly throw this revelation at her, especially with neither of their soulmates there to prove it. The other woman was working - an actual life-saving job that couldn’t be delayed by something like this. Letting her go for now was the right option.</p><p>She just wished it felt like it.</p><p>Annie swallows and swears, reaching down and maneuvering Bastard carefully so she can dig the phone out of her sweats pocket. Using one hand, she answers and shoves it between her ear and her shoulder, snapping, “What do you want?”</p><p>On the other end, Ymir growls, “Well hello to you too, fuckface.”</p><p>Annie groans. “Hello, Ymir. What do you want?”</p><p>“Well, gee, I don’t know - a million dollars for one, or maybe a beach house, or maybe a fucking roommate that actually responds to her texts. I’m fucking hungry, blondie, and you’ve been gone for like an hour,” Ymir snipes back, sounding irritated and indignant and every bit of her usual lovable self.</p><p>Annie opens her mouth to retort something equally as waspish, but pauses. Suddenly, a feral smirk unfurls across her face. “Oh, sorry about that. I was just busy talking to my soulmate so I couldn’t check my phone,” she responds in a purposefully bored tone.</p><p>“What the fuck does that even mean? I’ve literally been sitting here, doing nothing since your loud ass slammed the door earlier. What are you on?”</p><p>“I meant my other soulmate, Ymir,” Annie retorts blandly, rolling her eyes and moving towards a nearby bench under the shade. When she sits, she adjusts the burrito to lay horizontally across her stomach, letting him wiggle and knead the jacket before finally settling in a comfortable position. A low pur emits from his throat, and she strokes the top of his head fondly.</p><p>Ymir is silent for a few moments as this happens. “Your other - <em> HUH!? </em>How did you - how could you - WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU!?”</p><p>And Annie rolls her eyes. “Come to the park off of 14th and Hillside. We need a ride.”</p><p>When Ymir pulls up only 9 minutes later, it’s obvious she expected to see another human with her and not the sight of Bastard’s scarred but fluffy face wrapped up in Annie’s jacket. Her mouth is hanging open, eyes wide and betrayed, and it’s very obvious that she’s deciding whether or not to leave them stranded there. Luckily, Annie hops into the car before she can storm off, but she’s not saved from the tongue lashing she receives on the way home. Bastard starts up his yowls once more in response to Ymir’s bad attitude, and she sits there, trapped between the two grouchiest things in her life. </p><p>Somehow, it doesn’t bother her in the slightest. No - with the image of those gray eyes in her head and the fluttering excitement that’s built in her stomach - she finds she’s not bothered at all.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>round 2 of ymir and annie vs. a landlord, featuring a german!Annie just for funnsies. you can't tell me that annie doesn't prefer to curse in german. you just can't. for how specific their insults are and how angry they sound, i think it's perfect for annie (though i do accept cases for russian!annie as well)</p><p>hahaha also the landlord's supposed to be an asshole who gets in the way, even if his part seems to be commentary on the whole soulmate au debate. i agree with the dude lowkey (like lowkey lowkey), but ngl, im still soft for the whole fated love thing and will probably yearn for more soulmate fics. </p><p>do i believe that the landlord doesn't get paid enough to deal with an angry 5 foot blonde woman? maybe. did i also want annie to pile drive him into the ground? yes. </p><p>um still don't know what im doing. still crack. thanks for reading!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“The balcony really is perfect!” is the first thing she squeals as she enters the apartment, running her hands along the guardrails and leaning over to see the park below. They’re not too high up - just the 5th floor, but she gets a bit of a rush just from where she’s standing. </p><p>Behind her, Mikasa and Eren are maneuvering the couch through the door with Armin directing them.</p><p>“Tilt it a little more, love,” Armin calls out, putting his hands on the back of the sofa to help guide them in.</p><p>“Anything you ask, <em> Mr. Arlert </em>,” Eren practically coos, pronouncing his name suggestively and looking so sickeningly in love that even Historia has to look away for a moment.</p><p>Still in the hall, Mikasa deadpans, “he was already Mr. Arlert before, Eren. You don’t have to say his name like <em> it’s </em>the one that’s changed.”</p><p>Immediately, and predictably, Eren objects, though his face is scrunched in concentration as he backs his way into the room. “But we’re Mr. and Mr. Arlert now. It’s changed because we both share the name!”</p><p>Mikasa rolls her eyes a little, but she concedes the point, making Historia giggle from her place by the balcony doors. Sweeping back into the room, she twirls and gracefully plops down onto the couch only moments after it’s been placed down, pulling Armin down next to her in all of one motion. He lands next to her and bounces a little in place, but he’s easily steadied by Historia’s body leaning against his.</p><p>“This really is so great! You guys are like adult-adults now - with car payments and bills and a place of your own!” She squeals out in excitement, jostling Armin a little.</p><p>“We had that all before, H. The only thing that’s different is our names on a piece of paper,” Eren points out, scrunching his face up a bit as he takes a seat on the arm nearest Armin.</p><p>“And we’re 25. We’ve been adult-adults for at least 4 years,” Mikasa adds, leaning against the opposite arm.</p><p>Historia rolls her eyes and sticks out her tongue. “Shut up. I just mean that you guys are starting your lives together already. As a kid, finding your soulmate, getting a job, and getting married were, like, the apex of what I imagined adult life would look like. It was how I knew I’d make it! I’m just saying that you guys have achieved what baby Historia dreamed about!” She explains exuberantly, raising her hands up high and stretching them outwards.</p><p>Armin smiles at her in agreement. “I kind of see what you mean. Before, everything had already been perfect, but now that we’re married, it’s like something’s brighter about the world.”</p><p>“Marriage is a societal construct created to cater to the misogynistic patriarchy,” Mikasa deadpans, looking unimpressed by their display.</p><p>Armin and Historia share an amused look when Eren practically growls at her and begins another one of his patented soulmate spiels. This happens every so often where Mikasa likes to say something off-handedley about soulmates or romance or marriage, just to rile Eren up. He reacts in the same predictable manner as always - yelling with a passion that’s probably a little too intense for the moment. He was always a little sensitive about the topic - especially when it came to Mikasa.</p><p>Historia likes to think she does this because Mikasa gets bored and enjoys the noise Eren makes when he gets fired up.</p><p>(Actually - now that she thinks about it - Mikasa likes to do that with her too - especially when they’re drunk. </p><p>While Armin was the one to hold her back and soothe her into submission when a too-drunk person trampled all over her at bars, Mikasa was the one rubbing her shoulders, whispering encouragement into her ear. Figuratively, of course. She wasn't much of a touchy type of person. </p><p>They really did make it feel like there was an angel and a devil sitting on opposite ends of her shoulders.</p><p>Truthfully, most times, she preferred the devil. </p><p>And most times, it was Mikasa finishing her fight for her, whisking her away and stepping in to complete the knockout - not that it made it any less exciting. Cheering for Mikasa was nearly just as fun as throwing the first punch.)</p><p>Mikasa likes excitement, likes challenges, likes protecting and being able to protect people. It’s probably why she enjoyed such a dangerous career and why she loved fighting in the gyms nearby, but it makes Historia wonder if she actually believes what she says to Eren. Does she not want to find her soulmate? Or does she just not want to get married?</p><p>Mikasa had always been a bit of a tough nut to crack. It took several years of living together to understand the nuances of her expressions, and even now, it’s still difficult to tell what she’s thinking. Historia likes to think they’re close - like so super close that she’s been able to predict which scarf she’ll wear on which day of the week since their junior year of college - but getting her to open up about things is like pulling teeth! They’ve had conversations about their own soulmates, but it was mostly Mikasa listening earnestly while Historia rambled on. She always figured that it was because Mikasa only wanted to talk about soulmates to her own soulmate, but with the way Eren reacts every time Mikasa brings it up, it’s likely she doesn’t talk to him about her true feelings either. </p><p>Unless they are her true feelings. But that can’t be true - can it?</p><p>So, perhaps a bit impulsively, she decides to ask, “Mikasa, do you not want to find your soulmate?”</p><p>Eren’s voice dies mid-rant. Armin startles a little next to her, turning to look down at her in surprise before glancing worriedly back at Mikasa, whose face has gone carefully blank.</p><p>“Why do you ask that?”</p><p>Historia shrugs a little in embarrassment, but she still can’t contain her curiosity. “You’ve never really talked about it before, and the way you tease Eren - I just thought, well - I don’t know. I just wanted to know how you feel about it, is all.”</p><p>“Tch, of course she does,” Eren answers dismissively, leaning back and using Armin’s shoulder to balance himself on the couch.</p><p>Historia sends him a glare, as if to say, <em> I wasn’t asking you, bonehead. </em> Luckily, Armin picks up on their weird shared twin telepathy (or at least that’s what she calls it in her head) and elbows his husband in the leg, shaking his head disapprovingly. Eren holds his arms out in front of him, like he’s asking what he did wrong, before rolling his eyes and motioning towards Mikasa with an errant hand. “Tell them, ‘Kasa.”</p><p>Mikasa shrugs and concedes the fact. “I do,” she agrees.</p><p>Historia sits and waits, willing her to offer something more, but Mikasa maintains her unyielding countenance. After several moments, it’s her turn to be elbowed by her soulmate, reminding her that she can’t force anything out of Mikasa that she wasn’t willing to share. Pouting, Historia turns away. “Fine, keep your secrets, o’ stoic one.”</p><p>That earns a slight grin from Mikasa, who hides it by standing straight and motioning towards door. “Let’s get the beds and finish up.”</p><p>With a salute, Eren trots after her with Armin and Historia just behind him. </p><p>The apartment they'd decided on was the one Mikasa had expressed interest in on the day she took her tour. It was true that Historia probably didn't even need to go on the tours after all, but she just wanted to be sure! </p><p>Their move-in dates differed by a few days, but in a spot of luck, they managed to get units on the same floor. Historia had been all too happy when she heard that bit of information. It would be all too easy to bother the boys whenever they felt like it, especially on days they knew that Armin cooked.</p><p>Though, in reality, it was probably going to be Mikasa doing most of the disturbing. She really could be the biggest mother hen - not that Historia could blame her. Eren tended to be a slob and usually forgot to take care of himself when he was really focused on something (which was near always). Armin did a good job of reminding him to step back into reality, but he often left the mothering to Mikasa.</p><p>Living separately but still relatively close reminds her a lot of their days in university - except less Armin dragging her out to go study at the library and more getting mimosa-drunk on sundays. </p><p>Once they’re all moved and settled in, Historia finds that it’s actually a nice change - not that not living with her soulmate was a good thing! She actually misses Armin more than she’ll probably admit to him out loud. Even though they’re literally 6 doors down from each other, it’s not the same as waking up every morning and seeing Armin slaving over the stove in only his bugs bunny pajama bottoms, smiling brightly at her even though it’s early enough that his eyes aren’t completely open yet. </p><p>But living with only Mikasa is great too! They were already more than familiar with each other’s lifestyles, after having spent the last 7ish years living together, so it was easy peezy to get used to living only with each other again. Mikasa was a neat, orderly, and thoughtful roommate, and Historia can only hope she thought the same about her. They coexisted nicely together and enjoyed the girl time that was afforded to them now that Eren didn’t stake his territory in the living room. It was nice spending so much time with her.</p><p>That didn’t mean she neglected her soulmate duties to Armin, though. They were still rather attached at the hip, and when they weren’t, they were texting each other throughout the day. She liked to galivant off with him and Eren on the days that Mikasa worked and she didn’t.</p><p>On one such day, two weeks after moving into the apartment, Historia finds herself sitting across from the lovebirds at a cute little cafe she found on yelp. It’s a sunday, and she’s already 3 and a half mimosas in. With how small she is, she can admit that she should probably cut herself off soon before she drinks her bodyweight in champagne and becomes another casualty that Armin has to look after. His husband has already drowned himself in 6, and he’s beginning to slur just the slightest bit, his arm slung around Armin’s shoulders as he rambles on.</p><p>“I’m just sayin’ that I’m a bit worried for her, y’know?” Eren says, waving around his half-filled glass. Historia is nodding earnestly along to him, nursing her own cup, while Armin is trying near-desperately to flag down the waitress for their check. <em> Smart boy </em>, Historia thinks.</p><p>“Like - she deserves some happiness, too, y’know? She’s always taken care of me because she thinks she owes it to me, but I want her to be happy too,” Eren says, to Armin’s apparent horror, a little tearfully. </p><p>Historia, a former Delta Sigma Theta member, reacts mostly on instinct, leaning over to pat his arm comfortingly. “No, no,” she replies, shaking her head adamantly. “She is happy. We make her happy. You’re a good soulmate, Eren,” she reassures, blinking back her own tears when Eren’s lower lip trembles a little. </p><p>“You think so?” He asks, and Historia can really feel the alcohol in her own system because she nods tearfully back at him.</p><p>“Of course! She loves you!”</p><p>“Even if I haven’t found her soulmate yet?” </p><p>And Historia can’t help the lone tear that slips down her cheek in sympathy. Anytime she saw someone act so beaten down, she couldn’t stop the way her heart always shattered. Across from her, Armin releases a strangled sound of distress just as he hands the waitress his card. </p><p>“You know she would never hold that against you, Eren,” Armin reassures, finally able to join the conversation. He’s rubbing Eren’s back comfortingly while shooting Historia a grateful smile, probably for trying to deescalate the situation even though she’s over here blubbering over it too. “She’s the most pragmatic one of us all. She would never blame you for something you couldn’t control.”</p><p>That has Eren nodding a little blearily at him in acceptance. “That makes sense. She never really does get mad at me, even when I probably deserve it.”</p><p>Well, Historia can’t really argue with that. Eren really was such a brat sometimes, but Mikasa never really blew up on him for it.</p><p>After some more reassuring, they get up to leave. Eren’s a little wobbly, so he has to hold onto Armin for the walk out of the building - not that he needed an excuse to. Now that he’s done angsting over Mikasa’s lovelife, he’s suddenly found interest in Armin’s hair, running one hand through it as he leans over and rests his cheek against the top of his head. </p><p>Armin is fighting a flush when he complains. “Eren, you’re making it hard to walk.”</p><p>“Don’t care. Your hair always smells like sunshine,” he responds wistfully, placing a clumsy kiss where his cheek was before. </p><p>That definitely earns a blush, to which Historia giggles at teasingly, swinging around to hip bump Armin. <em> Sunshine, </em> she mouths at him with a small smirk, and he responds by covering her face with his free hand, pushing her away. Another peel of laughter escapes her as she swings around blindly, removing his hand and apprehending his other arm to lean against. He stumbles a bit to get used to the weight of two other people clinging onto him, but he adjusts quickly, instead only sighing happily.</p><p>The walk home is only 5 blocks. Armin had wanted to drive, but Historia likes it when they all drink so she pitched the idea of walking. The streets are pretty busy, and her and Eren have to stand a little closer to Armin so that they can all fit on the sidewalk. It isn’t until someone bumps into Eren and almost causes another mimosa-fueled drunken row that Historia decides to walk in front of them to save room. </p><p>Eren is talking a little louder than what’s probably considered polite, so she’s still able to be a part of the conversation even if she’s a few paces ahead. It’s only when she <em> stops </em>hearing his voice that she knows they stopped walking. Historia turns around curiously and is met with wide, excited eyes. </p><p>“Historia!” Armin cries out, pointing at her. “Your light is on!”</p><p>Eren’s jaw drops open, like actually drops open, while Historia faintly points to herself, as if to ask <em> me? Really me? </em></p><p>Armin is nodding emphatically, smiling so wide that his lips look like they might split his cheeks, and in an instant they’re colliding together. Armin lifts and swings Historia around while it looks like Eren is still trying to wrap his head around the new revelation. The crowd moves around them like they’re a permanent block on the sidewalk, not bothering to glance at them for longer than a second, which is something Historia’s grateful for because she needs a few seconds to process this.</p><p>This was the first time her light went off in all of the 10 years she’s known Armin. She knew that, realistically, this day was coming, but it was always so abstract in her head - a wish and a longing but not reality. Now that it’s here, it’s left her a little winded. Coupled with the alcohol still in her system, she feels absolutely drunk on giddiness and excitement and nervousness, and once Armin sets her down, she has to hold onto his arms to steady herself. </p><p>“H-how bright is it?” She asks tremulously, looking up at his baby blues with a pair of her own. </p><p>“Not too bright, but not too dim either. I think…” he squints, pursing his lips as if he’s considering something, “they’re probably a good few blocks away still. We should get going.”</p><p>Historia nods determinedly in agreement, and it’s at this moment that Eren wakes from his stupor. “Well, what are we waiting for, then!” He cries out, moving to step between them. He bends over and looks at her from over his shoulder. “Hop on, Historia! Let’s get a move on!” </p><p>“What - Eren?” Armin protests, but Historia’s already clambering up his back without further prompting. She really was getting a little dizzy from all that blood rushing up to her head, and getting carried does seem like the best option.</p><p>“Direct us from behind, babe!” Eren calls out before he begins walking.</p><p>She can tell he’s still probably a little too tipsy to be doing this, but she has to admire his resolve. He only stumbles maybe once, and that’s because she tightened her grip and almost choked him once Armin began to excitedly tell them that the light was getting brighter. </p><p>Her heart is positively pounding within her after two blocks. Eren is beginning to sweat, probably because she’s beginning to sweat, and it’s kind of gross and awkward, but they don’t really notice anything more than what’s in front of them. Armin has gone silent from behind them, which must mean that they're going the right way. That only serves to fuel another kaleidoscope of butterflies surging inside her belly. </p><p>A gasp behind them has Eren stepping on his heels to pull them to a stop. They both look anxiously over their shoulders, only to find Armin holding a hand over his eyes. “Wow, it’s almost too bright to stare at. We’re really, really close, His,” Armin declares, wincing a little when he takes his hand away. He turns to look around them and startles at something in the distance. </p><p>Historia and Eren both whip their heads around to follow his gaze, only to find people in a crowd being briskly shoved to the side.</p><p>“Do you think...” Historia asks, faintly. </p><p>“Oh, hell yeah,” Eren confirms, already twisting around to grab Historia from off his back. He manhandles her and lifts her by the under part of her arms with little trouble. Usually, she would kick someone in the shin for treating her like this, but instead, she’s so nervous that she can only hang limply from his hands like a doll. </p><p>Thankfully, Armin tries to step in, pulled back into focus by Historia’s strangled protest. “Eren, put her down!” </p><p>“No, wait! I have an idea!” He exclaims, before holding her out in front of him. He presents her to the crowded streets, and distantly, she can hear the Circle of Life play in the back of her mind. But then, he’s lifting her even higher, sitting her atop one of his shoulders. </p><p>This sends her squealing, arms wrapping around his head to hold on for dear life.</p><p>“Eren!” Historia and Armin both cry out in indignation. </p><p>She’s never been this high before. Eren is 6’2 for Pete’s sake! </p><p><em> Oh gosh, I don’t feel well, </em>she thinks as she tries to steady herself. Armin is trying to get her down, more worried about her cracking her head on the concrete beneath them than Eren apparently is. </p><p>“Do your job, soulmate!” Eren commands, whisking Historia away from Armin and causing her to let out another squeal of distress. </p><p>“But - ”</p><p>He’s cut off by a nearby shout. “There!” </p><p>All at once, the three of them freeze. Unsurprisingly, it’s Eren who whirls around first, pulling Historia along with him. This time, she nearly tips off from the back, but Armin is there to hold her back up. When she’s righted, she begins to slap his head. </p><p>“Eren, put me down now!” She yells, finally having enough of it. </p><p>He winces, trying to escape her blows. “Ow, ow - stop! Okay!” He says, letting her slide off. Armin is there to guide her down, holding onto her arms as she hops down. </p><p>“Are you okay, Historia?” He asks worriedly, patting down her hair as she adjusts the strapless top she’s wearing. </p><p>She nods off-handedly towards her soulmate once everything is straightened out before she’s swiveling to glare at Eren, mouth set in the firmest frown line she’s capable of. “You jerk! You can’t just manhandle me like I’m a child!” </p><p>He holds out his hands in defense, scrunching up his face as if he’s affronted by her anger. “I was just trying to help! You’re so damn tiny that there was no way they were gonna find you in the crowd.”</p><p>Historia gasps dramatically, recoiling like she’s been hit. That asshole knows that that was a sore spot for her! “You take that back, Eren Arlert!”</p><p>“Uh, guys?” Armin tries to intervene, sounding vaguely nervous. </p><p>You know Eren is serious about something when he decides not to react to the mention of his newly changed last name. </p><p>“I won’t! Don’t be ungrateful, you brat. We’re just trying to find you your soulmate before you turn into an old hag!” This time, they both gasp, holding their hands to their faces in shock. “Oh my god, I think I’m still drunk,” he says, looking faintly ill while she stares back with her own wide eyes.</p><p>“Guys, really -”</p><p>“I can’t believe you just said that,” Historia whispers, looking genuinely both hurt and in disbelief.</p><p>“I can’t either,” he says, holding a hand to his face before he’s peeking his eyes through his fingers. “Please don’t tell, Mikasa.”</p><p>An evil grin spreads across Historia’s lips. “I am <em> so </em>going to tell -”</p><p>“GUYS!”</p><p>Both of them freeze, startled completely by Armin’s raised voice. He never yells at them - not even to get their attention. At once, they start to point at each other, crying out, “He/She started it!”</p><p>But he’s not even looking at them. Instead, his eyes are squinted and directed pointedly at the ground. This immediately strikes her as odd, so she squints her eyes back at him, cocking her head in confusion. She’s about to ask about why he’s staring at the floor when a throat clears, and suddenly, everything rushes back to her. She remembers where she is and why she was arguing with Eren in the first place, and all the blood drains from her face.</p><p>She’s almost too scared to look. She probably just made <em> the </em>most horrific first impression she could have made - at one of the most pivotal moments of her life, to boot. She was petulant and bossy and she really was acting like a child - why would someone ever want her? Oh no, oh crap!</p><p>As if sensing her inner turmoil, Armin puts a gentle hand on her shoulder and steps beside her, trying to give support where he can. She knows that he knows that he can’t make the first move for her. This has to be completely her, so she sucks in a breath and looks towards her future.</p><p>Only to find a pair of breasts at eye level. Historia blinks and begins to trail her eyes upwards, eyes slowly getting wider the higher she goes. “Holy crap,” she utters when she finally meets her soulmate’s gaze, “you’re really tall!”</p><p>The woman narrows her eyes in response, frowning. “And you’re really short,” she retorts, voice dark and raspy but still sharply feminine. It makes the tips of her ears begin to burn because - holy hell, if a voice could be hot, it was definitely this woman’s!</p><p>It distracts her momentarily, and she lets her eyes wander before she can help herself. The woman really is tall - Historia has to physically turn her head to meet her eyes, but it’s no hardship, she finds. The prize at the end of her gaze is totally worth it. The woman’s eyes are a deep and rich brown that she wants to melt into, even if they’re hardened with wariness. The sharp lines of her face fit together rather beautifully, if a little rugged, and it matches the way her short hair is pulled back, a few stray pieces falling in the front. Historia’s eyes get stuck on the smirk that’s appeared on her lips, because they’re dark and pulled back into something dangerous, and she really was still feeling those mimosas because all of a sudden she finds herself wanting to swoon.</p><p>She’s read about and prepared herself for that rush of endorphins you get when you first meet your soulmate, but they really weren’t messing around when they said the chemistry was instant. There was no way Sapphic Weekly could have prepared her for this. This was madness, this was overwhelming, this was e<em>verything she ever dreamt of </em>!</p><p>Her other half doesn’t seem to be as incapacitated, however. “Finished looking there, shorty? Or do you want a picture, too?” The woman taunts, and suddenly that smirk was looking less attractive and more irritating. </p><p>Historia crosses her arms over her chest and turns her nose up at her. “A picture? Why would I want one now when I know you'll be sending them yourself sooner or later?” she replies, giving her a once over with a raised eyebrow. Her soulmate was...hot, Historia would admit - but she also looked a bit like a fuckboy. Not that she was complaining. It worked terribly well for her. </p><p>The woman’s eyes narrow before she huffs out a biting laugh. “If you’re lucky.”</p><p>“I have a good feeling that I will be,” Historia responds nonchalantly, though the grin that blossoms across her face is borderline salacious, enough so that she can practically feel Armin turn beet red.</p><p>The shorter woman next to her barks out a laugh at the innuendo, taking delight in the way her companion’s eyes narrow in confusion and then go wide, tops of her cheeks tinting red. Scowling, she mutters out a, “fuck off, Annie,” before she’s back to staring imperiously down at Historia.</p><p>Historia matches that gaze with her own. Then, she sticks her hand out. “My name’s Historia Reiss. It’s nice to meet you,” she says, willing her voice not waver with the nerves she’s feeling. </p><p>The other woman’s hand grasps hers almost gently, engulfing it in her much larger one. The difference in their skin tone is eye-catching, and Historia almost wants to take a minute to appreciate it, but the woman’s voice drags her eyes upward. “You too. Name’s Ymir Andersen.”</p><p>Almost immediately, Armin and the woman by Ymir’s side imperceptibly relax. Historia surmises that the light must have gone away for them. First touch and a general acknowledgement of each other’s status was how her light had disappeared for Armin and Eren way back when they met towards the end of high school. </p><p>Historia turns to the woman - Annie, Ymir had called her - and offers a greeting of her own, smiling brightly. It wouldn’t do to not acknowledge the person who helped lead them to this moment, especially when she knows that she’ll probably be initiated into their homiesexual family eventually, and more specifically, their groupchat sooner rather than later. Annie nods back, looking over her a little warily - which, fair. She was definitely channeling sorority pledge Historia Reiss today, which was not her best form, but she was confident that she could win her over. If nothing else, they could bond over the fact Ymir’s soul apparently had a type. She had no doubt that they would get clocked as sisters immediately if anyone were to see them together, and with Armin there, they might as well be triplets. </p><p>Armin and Eren introduce themselves eventually as well, and there are a few awkward seconds where they continue to stare at each other, willing the other to make the first move. Oddly enough, Ymir was beginning to look a little green in the face, eyes darting away from Historia’s own. Annie notices this immediately and rolls her eyes, elbowing her soulmate to prompt her to open her mouth. </p><p>Ymir swallows visibly, looking put out, before she glances back at Historia’s wide baby blues. If possible, it makes her pale even more. </p><p>“Do you wanna get out of here and, uh,” she clears her throat, looking extremely uncomfortable, “talk? Get to know each other and shit.”</p><p>Like the sun, Historia brightens, a beam rising upon her lips. She would very much like to get to know Ymir. Letting out a nervous giggle, she nods. “That’d be nice.”</p><p>That adds some color back to Ymir’s face, but it’s mostly just red. “Right - cool. Right,” Ymir stammers, before shaking her head firmly, as if trying to reclaim a grasp on her facial features. She nods her head in the opposite direction, asking, “Wanna get a coffee or somethin’?”</p><p>Historia immediately agrees before stopping and looking a little sheepish. “We just came back from brunch so coffee might do me some good.”</p><p>Ymir raises an eyebrow and Annie does a glance over of Eren, looking unimpressed. “You weren’t joking when you said you were drunk?” </p><p>Predictably, his feathers are ruffled at the implication, but before he can puff up and bite out a retort, Armin steps in, smiling a little apologetically. “We got a little carried away today with the bottomless mimosas. Usually, Eren’s partner helps me keep an eye on these two, but she had work.”</p><p>Behind him, Eren scoffs, muttering to himself, “yeah, right. If she were here, she would’ve let Hissy have that 5th drink, and then we really would’ve had a problem on our hands.”</p><p>Ymir’s eyes glint with both interest and amusement, and it looks like she’s about to ask for him to elaborate on that a little more, but Historia just shakes her head, saying, “no, no, no - you don’t get access to embarrassing knowledge about me yet, especially from my friends. We need to go on at least 4 dates and have 1 soulmate game night with all of us there before you guys get to bond over teasing me.”</p><p>“Game night?” Annie deadpans, looking vaguely disgusted by the idea, while Ymir gulps and whispers, “dates?”</p><p>But Historia pays neither any attention. “Anyways, let’s get going!” She turns back to Eren and Armin, tapping the former affectionately on the arm and leaning up to kiss the latter's cheek. “Thanks for your help, guys! I’ll text you all later!” </p><p>And then she’s looking up expectantly at Ymir, waiting patiently for her to process the events and her next move. It only takes a few moments before she’s jerking and nodding, saying a brief goodbye to her companion and holding out her elbow. They both look at it, genuinely surprised by the action, but before Ymir can take it back, Historia grabs it happily, enjoying the warmth and the definition there. </p><p>Behind them, Annie slaps her hand to her head, as if embarrassed by her soulmate, while Armin tries valiantly to stop Eren from making those teasing kissing noises. Historia pays little attention to it, though. She’s too busy walking on air to focus on anything other than the fact that her soulmate was finally on her arm. </p><p>Oh, what a lucky day!</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Oh, what a shitty fucking day.</p><p>It’s been approximately 2 months and 8 days since Ymir’s massive fuck-up,  30 days since Annie had a run in with her mysterious, sexy firelady soulmate, and 20 days since she met her own fantastical, sexy school teacer soulmate - and sexy school teacher aside, Ymir was straight up not having a good time. </p><p>Needless to say, after finding out that Annie had actually met her soulmate, like <em> actually </em> met her (and <em> without </em>Ymir’s help), she went a little mad. She was near rabid. She could smell blood in the water, and she was ready to seal the deal. But Annie put her foot down immediately. They were to absolutely not purposefully set off fire alarms in the hopes that the sexy firelady came to the rescue - absolutely not. And they were also absolutely not allowed to drive past the several fire stations in the city and harass the poor woman at her work, either. </p><p>It was supposed to be natural, organic, and not at all from some elaborate plan Ymir cooked up to find the woman. Apparently, Annie didn’t want to make a big deal of it and seek out the woman, especially not if the only way to find her was through her job. They were in the same city. They had to run into her eventually. </p><p>Yeah, fucking right.</p><p>Trost was pretty huge, and if after the approximate month Ackerman had supposedly spent in the city they still hadn’t found each other, then there was something a little sus going on. </p><p>Annie supposed that the buff firelady (and yes, Annie had briefly mentioned something about seeing Ackerman’s abs through her shirt, which for her was basically a rambling confession) didn’t have her platonic soulmate with her in the city. That would mean even more waiting - and more reliance on Ymir’s end, if Ymir wasn’t suffering enough. </p><p>So Ymir pushed her luck. She’d looked up the closest fire station to that park and took a detour one day after work when Annie was too sleepy to pay attention to the route they were taking. As they drove past, and no light burst from Annie’s chest, she couldn’t help the visible sag of her shoulders in disappointment. Unfortunately, Annie noticed then and blew a gasket. Ymir was banned from driving them for the next month, which was more a punishment for Annie than anything else, but she knew that that meant that Annie was serious about this. </p><p>Cue Ymir’s reappearing rotten mood.</p><p>On the other end of things, however, Ymir also seems to find herself in a perpetual state of disbelief. For the past 3 weeks, it’s been like living with a balloon inflating in your chest. The feeling is so strange, so absolutely fucking weird that she was initially alarmed. Once she learned that the tight and fluttering feeling was associated with anything in relation to her newly acquainted soulmate, the disbelief came to her. </p><p>How she managed to get matched with a woman like Historia absolutely boggled her mind. She was a school teacher for crying out loud! A fucking saint with a face to match. To be paired with someone who looked like she spent her high school years dealing drugs was cruel, at least to Historia.</p><p>But fuck it. If Ymir was lucky enough for a catch like her, then she wouldn’t waste her opportunity. If Historia was hers, then she was gonna do her best to keep her. </p><p>The day they met was a little bit of a mess. To see this absolute goddess of a woman, raised on a pedestal for all to view in the shining rays of the mid-morning sun, was rapture. She felt like she was having a meeting with the divine. It was the closest thing to holy she’s ever felt -</p><p>And then she heard her talk. </p><p>The woman in front of her was petulant and bratty in her indignance towards her companion - and ah, that was more like it. She liked the bit of fire in that tiny woman, liked that she wasn’t afraid to bite back.</p><p>Historia was like a dream that Ymir had somehow stumbled onto. She looked genuinely interested in whatever bullshit Ymir had to say, and she laughed at every shitty joke Ymir spewed out to try and impress her. Every time her phone lit up with a text, her heart would give a start, as if she somehow forgot that there was now another living person on the planet besides Annie that gave a shit about her. (And they texted often, so imagine the state of Ymir’s poor heart.) </p><p>The woman texted with kaomojis <em> unironically </em> for Christ’s sake, and she didn’t have even the slightest urge to bully her. </p><p>It was absolutely flabbergasting. </p><p>After the day at the coffee shop, they’d texted near constantly. Historia liked to ramble, and Ymir liked to complain, and it made for interesting after-work conversations that spilled into the late night. Ymir knew that Annie found all of this entirely too amusing (and a bit sickening), but seemingly, she was allowing her a blessed grace period before unleashing a torrent of taunts and teasing as a sort of congratulations present. Ymir didn’t know how long it would last, but she would take it. </p><p>They went on their second date (because Historia had insisted that the coffee shop was a date, and Ymir didn’t have heart or the urge to refute that) later that first week. It was as awkward as any date, except Ymir actually had to fucking try - and it went as terrible as you could probably imagine. There was a lot of stuttering and flushing and generally making a fool of herself.</p><p>But, at the end of the night, after she’d dropped Historia off at her apartment, she still got a kiss on the cheek for her efforts. </p><p>Absolutely mind-boggling.</p><p>Then they’d had their third date, and Ymir had made it to her door. </p><p>Historia had led her up to her apartment, fingers loosely intertwined and giggling like teenagers. Ymir, the fucking casanova that she was, twirled Historia around, enjoying the way her skirt floated around her and the delighted giggle that escaped her sweet lips. When they reached the door, Historia turned and leaned against it before shyly staring up into Ymir’s eyes. Ymir reacted to that almost instinctively, using her hand to prop herself above Historia’s form so that their faces were only so far apart. </p><p>Historia broke the silence first. “I had a great time tonight. Thank you for taking me out, Ymir,” she said, biting her lip to hide her burgeoning smile.</p><p>Ymir’s eyes were instantly drawn to the action, stuck on those pearly whites that stood stark against a glossy pink. A lascivious smirk grew on her own face as she leant down just a little closer. “Well, who says it’s gotta end? It is the 3rd date, y’know,” Ymir husked, feeling just a little lightheaded at the way Historia’s eyes grew hooded.</p><p>“Wellllll,” she drew out, reaching out to tug at the end of Ymir’s shirt. “I guess you could come in for a little while,” she murmured playfully, and Ymir swore she could feel her heart stop. The way they were magnetized, swaying towards each other so that each breath was closer than the last - it gave her enough courage to finally take the plunge. </p><p>Ymir ducked down and closed the distance between them, pressing their lips together gently. She was still nervous, still hopped up on adrenaline and hormones and those stupid butterflies, so her lips trembled just the slightest bit against Historia’s, but that only made Historia reach up onto her tippy-toes, grasping onto her face and the back of her neck and holding tight - as if Ymir was about to fall apart and it was only Historia’s hands against her that held her together. </p><p>It was perfect. It was fucking everything. And Ymir felt like she could never have enough.</p><p>And then - Historia was pulling away, looking all sorts of mischievous and not at all the dazed mess she knew she probably looked like. </p><p>“On second thought - maybe another night. 3rd date hookups are a little cliché, aren’t they?” Historia suggested a little too innocently. </p><p>And Ymir, bless her stupid fucking heart, nodded along, still a little disoriented. “Yeah, makes sense,” she mumbled, before leaning back down to capture her lips once again. </p><p>Historia, the saint, allowed her this. Their lips lingered for several moments, and when Ymir went to deepen it, ready to wrap her arms around Historia’s waist and press her against the door, the kiss ended. Mindlessly, she went to follow the other woman’s lips, but a finger stopped her. </p><p>“Be good,” she tried to sound stern, but even Ymir could see that she was amused and probably just as horny as she was.</p><p>“I’ll be whatever you need me to be if it means that I get through that door tonight,” Ymir husked lowly, following the path of smooth, pale skin below her neck with her eyes. Her tongue wet her lips unconsciously, and Historia let out an audible gulp, staring up at Ymir with big eyes. </p><p><em> Ladies and Gentlemen - we got her </em>, Ymir thought smugly to herself as a flush began to spread its way down Historia’s chest. She followed it with her eyes and swallowed, feeling herself grow excited with anticipation. Historia really was so lovely, and the fact that she got to have her, got to feel her against her lips, her skin, was almost enough to make her want to jump her right then and there in that hallway. </p><p>She settled for a kiss, instead. </p><p>But at the last moment, Historia turned her head, and Ymir’s mouth hit her cheek. Pulling back just a little, Historia looked into her eyes intently. “Not tonight, Ymir,” she said softly, voice still lilted in an almost playful way. She felt her breath against her skin, and she had to hold in a groan. “Maybe next time.”</p><p>And then their lips touched once more for only a few seconds before Historia was bidding her goodnight, leaving her to sit outside her door and blink dumbly at the place that her soulmate once stood. </p><p>What. A. Fucking. Tease.</p><p>“Next time,” as Historia had suggested, brings us to the present day - date number 4 and 30 days since Annie had first seen her soulmate. </p><p>Ymir had actually made it through Historia’s door this time, as was the plan of the night, but she still took it as a victory nonetheless. </p><p>The apartment is neat, which isn’t that much of a surprise - and even less of a surprise is the fact that it’s actually decorated, unlike Ymir and Annie’s place. There are potted plants and picture frames and pretty little inspiring words that she wouldn’t be caught dead putting on her wall, but since it’s her tiny little soulmate, it’s actually a little endearing (though she won’t ever admit that out loud). It still screams of newness and a certain fragility that has Ymir not wanting to touch anything.</p><p>Historia is a gracious hostess, however, and immediately urges her to sit, grabbing them a few bottles of beer from the fridge for them to sip on. </p><p>“You like beer?” Ymir questions a little skeptically, eyeing her from the side as the other woman pops open her bottle and takes a sip. </p><p>This has Historia immediately rolling her eyes in response, looking a little pouty at the implication. “Probably a little too much,” she divulges moodily. </p><p>Putting her hands up, Ymir smirks a little. “Sorry, princess, I just thought you were a fruity kinda gal. Those mimosas were a pretty defining moment for you,” she teases, and this time, Historia pouts for real.</p><p>“Just you wait until you and Annie get invited to Sunday breakfasts with us. You won’t be able to handle the sauce, either.”</p><p>A pleased thrill runs down her spine. That sounded nice. Being wanted and included in things was nice. </p><p>But Ymir keeps it cool and shakes her head playfully, rubbing Historia’s hair. “Whatever you say, shorty.”</p><p>The next half hour is spent watching a mindless show on netflix. It was supposed to be a movie night date for them, one where they could just relax and exist in the same area without the risk of Ymir shoving her foot in her mouth while trying to come up with something impressive to say to her. </p><p>Historia’s roommate would be coming home from work sometime soon, which meant she was supposed to be the on-her-best-behavior-Ymir that she only adorned around Annie’s dad (and that was only for Annie’s sake). Historia spoke about her roommate like she hung the stars in the sky, which probably would’ve made her jealous if it weren’t for the fact that she was slowly learning that Historia talked about everyone she loved like that (a part of her twisted on the inside thinking of what it might be that Historia said about her - what she <em> would </em>say about her? would she earn enough of her love to get her to look like that for her too?) She knew she was unfriendly, but she didn’t want the woman to immediately hate her. A good first impression could make coming to Historia’s apartment often a breeze. </p><p>By now, she’s worked up the courage to lay her arm across the top of the couch. Historia had shuffled almost imperceptibly towards her, and slowly, they’ve been inching closer and closer together. Ymir can just feel the heat of Historia’s body against her skin, and she aches to pull her in completely, to have them pressed fully against one another. </p><p>In a burst of courage, she drops her hand down, trying not to watch from the corner of her eye as it falls and hangs on the other side of Historia’s shoulder. Historia freezes, takes a peek at the hand, and then shifts completely, tucking herself into Ymir’s side. Ymir’s heart just about bursts, but she just wraps her up in her arm and drops her head down onto Historia’s.</p><p>“Took you long enough,” she sighs out in satisfaction.</p><p>Ymir scoffs. “This isn’t a one-man show, y’know. We’re gonna be crawling at a snail’s pace if you keep sittin’ on the bench and watchin’ me do the work.”</p><p>This only earns a giggle. “I don’t know, Ymir - you were pretty eager last week. We almost blew past the gates with how badly you wanted your hand down my pants.”</p><p>Ymir can’t help the blush that clings to her cheeks, but she raises her head and sneers to make up for it. “And everything thinks you’re an innocent little goddess. Tch - yeah right,” she grumbles to herself, trying valiantly to keep the image of just that out of her mind. She still has the whole night to get through, and she can’t blow it just because she can’t keep her head out of the gutter. </p><p>Historia giggles again and tugs on her arm to bring her head back down, which she does so a little grumpily. </p><p>The next few minutes pass by, and Ymir, with her fingers unconsciously tracing light circles into Historia’s arm, asks suddenly, “when’ s your roommate supposed to get here anyways?”</p><p>Historia narrows her eyes and glances up suspiciously at her soulmate. “Are you thinking dirty thoughts, Ymir?”</p><p>Ymir actually splutters in indignation. “What the hell! No!” But also yes (Historia didn’t need to know about that, though). Her intentions were only half-pure - honest, but the tiny little woman is still looking at her skeptically, as if she doesn’t believe her, and that only embarrasses her more. “What does your roommate even do? It’s like 6:30,” she grouses moodily, looking around for a clock and finding it on the side table next to her. There are a few picture frames around it, and she trails her eyes over them, trying to distract herself so the indignant flush will die down from her cheeks. </p><p>A flash of red catches her attention, and both of her eyes zero in almost unconsciously.</p><p>“Oh, Mikasa’s a firefighter. Her hours are absolutely insane, but I think that she actually gets off right about now!” Historia informs her dutifully, oblivious to the complete and utter chaos that’s raging in Ymir’s head only inches away from her. </p><p>It’s not until Historia peeks over to see what Ymir’s staring so intensely at that she lurches upwards, grabbing the picture in her hands and startling Historia so badly that she gasps aloud. She barely acknowledges it, though. All she can stare at is the picture of the woman.</p><p>“Ymir?” Historia asks a little nervously, peering over. “Is something wrong?”</p><p>But still, she can’t answer. Her heart is racing, her hands are trembling, and she’s damn-near going to cry. <em> Ho-ly fuck. This cannot be real. </em>She lets out a hysterical laugh, clutching the picture like it’s some holy grail, and Historia has grown near frantic beside her, trying not to show her apprehension as she shuffles around on the couch. When Ymir turns to look at her, a smile stretched so wildly and large across her face, Historia only gulps in response, bambi eyes wide and alarmed.</p><p>“Historia,” Ymir starts, so much excited energy buzzing along her skin that she’s near vibrating. </p><p>“Y-yes?” Historia responds nervously.</p><p>Ymir’s smile only grows larger. “I know who your roommate’s soulmate is!” This has Historia’s head cocking to the side, apprehension turning to confusion, and Ymir continues before she can ask. “Annie! My Annie is bonded to <em>this," </em> she emphasizes by thrusting the picture up between them, "lady! Her name is like Packerman, or somethin, but I know she's the one!'” She rushes out excitedly, buzzing in silence as the dots begin to connect in Historia’s head.</p><p>Historia blinks, slowly perking up. “How do you know, though?”</p><p>“Because we saw her! She left before we could catch her, but I know that red scarf!”</p><p>With little to no effort, Historia manages to transcend to her level of excitement, rising up to her knees and grabbing onto Ymir’s hand tightly. “You’re sure? Like super, really sure?” She asks, voice a higher pitch than it usually is, and Ymir nods a little frantically, raising her hand up in a scout’s salute (which was fucking ridiculous, by the way, because she’s pretty sure she’s never even met a scout before that wasn’t hounding her for cookie sales in the grocery parking lot). </p><p>“Oh my God!” Historia cries out, and Ymir is still nodding, smile stretched so wide that her cheeks are beginning to ache, but it doesn’t matter because now Historia’s smiling too, looking so ecstatic that she has to physically hold onto Ymir so that she doesn’t float away. “Oh my God!” She repeats, needlessly, but Ymir understands, because she’s <em> still </em>nodding.</p><p>“I’m gonna call Annie,” she informs her.</p><p>“And I’m gonna call Mikasa!” Historia says, and then they’re both twisting around, grabbing their phones.</p><p>Ymir quickly inputs Annie’s number and calls, fidgeting impatiently until Annie picks up on the 3rd ring. “What’s up,” she asks flatly, sounding distracted.</p><p>“Annie!” She whisper-shouts at just the same time that Historia cries out, “Mikasa!” “What are you doing right now!?”</p><p>“I don’t know, washing dishes,” Annie grunts, “why the hell are you yelling in my ear?”</p><p>The satisfaction and relief she feels is overwhelming, and she can barely hold it all in when she practically shouts, “you need to come to Historia’s apartment ASAP!! Like ASAP ASAP,” but then she pauses, rethinking that statement. “But make yourself look good. Throw on some perfume and shit and wear your best hoodie or somethin’. I don’t know, man - POINT IS, get your ass over here!”</p><p>There’s a pause, and Ymir can hear Historia shuffling around in the kitchen, obviously trying to hold in her own yells and succeeding only slightly more than Ymir.</p><p>“Are you doing drugs, Ymir? Has Historia introduced you to drugs?” Annie asks, sounding actually bewildered over the phone.</p><p>“What? No!” Ymir retorts, equally bewildered by the question. “You just really need to get here as fast as you can!”</p><p>“Why the fuck would I do that? Do you want me to cockblock your date or something? You swore up and down that you were at least getting to second base tonight,” she dutifully reminds her.</p><p>Ymir scowls immediately. Right. She forgot about that. She was supposed to be putting the moves on Historia tonight - but now they were both distracted.</p><p>“Listen, you little shit - get fucking dressed in something half-fucking decent because you’re meeting Mikasa tonight - and before you ask who Mikasa is, it’s your sexy fire fighting soulmate who just so happens to be the soulmate of Historia’s soulmate’s soulmate! There’s a picture of her here and everything! I turned my head and BAM! There’s the fit as fuck asian lady I saw running away from me that day! Historia’s bringing her ass here, so you need to get here too!”</p><p>Silence. </p><p>Complete silence. </p><p>Ymir is breathing heavily over the phone, staring harshly at the picture still clutched in her hand while she gives Annie a few moments to recalibrate. The tension grows between them the longer the silence continues. Then, the line goes dead. </p><p>Ymir blinks and looks at her phone in shock. She immediately redials, frowning when it goes straight to voicemail. She gets the same response trying it again, and again, and again, until she’s jabbing at the phone angrily with her finger, all but snarling at it.</p><p>Then she gets a text.</p><p>Annie bananie &gt;:( (6:40): stop spamming me, you freak</p><p>Bitch (6:40): then answer me wtf</p><p>Annie bananie &gt;:( (6:42): i’m busy</p><p>Bitch (6:42): FUCK THE DISHES!!!</p><p>Bitch (6:42): GET UR WHITE ASS OVER HERE RIGHT NOW</p><p>Bitch (6:43): ANNIE</p><p>Bitch (6:43): ANNIE</p><p>Bitch (6:43): ANNIE</p><p>Bitch (6:43): ANSWER ME</p><p>Bitch (6:43): ANNIE</p><p>Bitch (6:44): ANNI-</p><p>Annie bananie &gt;:( (6:44): HOLY FUCK SHUT UP</p><p>Annie bananie &gt;:( (6:44): i’m putting pants on rn</p><p>Bitch (6:44): …</p><p>Bitch (6:44): u were doing the dishes w/out pants?</p><p>Bitch (6:45): GAAAAYYYYY</p><p>Annie bananie &gt;:( (6:46) are you fucking kidding me rn?</p><p>Annie bananie &gt;:( (6:46): just give me the fucking address so i can block you already.</p><p>True to word, as soon as Annie receives the address and the apartment number, Ymir’s text messages stop going through. That does little to deter Ymir from sending a vicious onslaught of blue bubbles to her phone, however. </p><p>Her irritated scowl must attract her companion’s concern because after the 3rd giant block of text, Historia’s appearing at her side, peering over her arm to see what’s made her face contort so fiercely. “Is something the matter?” She asks, eyes wide and worried as she takes a glance at whatever Ymir’s been typing.</p><p>“The bitch blocked me,” Ymir mutters distractedly, finalizing her last insult before she turns to acknowledge her cute little soulmate.</p><p>Historia gasps. “Oh no! Are you two fighting?”</p><p>Ymir snorts and shakes her head, amused by the implication. Annie and her rarely fought - like actually, <em> actually </em> fought. They snapped at each other and got on each other’s nerves sometimes, but the thought of them getting into it bad enough that Ymir would constitute it as a “fight” was kind of ridiculous. The only time they were ever really vicious with each other was when it was about Annie’s shitty old man, but that guy’s been long gone for a while now.</p><p>Their relationship was just different. Where Historia and Armin were practically born of the same womb, spouting flowery declarations of affection and support, Annie and Ymir were a little tactful. They l-worded each other, would probably die for each other, but Ymir wouldn’t be caught dead saying that aloud. Hell, she probably wouldn’t even wear a matching friendship bracelet with her. This suited them just fine.</p><p>Historia wouldn't know anything of this, though. It was still really early in their relationship, and you couldn't really blame a girl for wanting to keep her soulmate to herself, just for a little while. Sure, she's talked about her plenty, but talking <em>about</em>Annie and talking <em>to </em>her were two completely different beasts. Her tiny little soulmate would have to grow to love Annie's abruptness and her freaky ability to stonewall her emotions in .2 seconds like Ymir had.</p><p>It was pretty suspicious though that they'd all somehow ended up matched together in a perfect group of 6. It was like fate took the first 6 people it saw, grouped them together, and threw them into the universe with only the intention of convenience in mind. Not that Ymir was complaining or anything. Historia was off-the-charts gorgeous. But that also meant that they were <em>stuck </em>together in a group. This just meant that soulmate game night was becoming more and more unavoidable (not that Ymir thinks that she would’ve been able to say no to Historia’s pleading face. That woman weaponizes those eyes of hers with deadly precision.). </p><p>“Nah,” Ymir reassures her, rolling her eyes as she puts her phone away. “She’s just freaking out and being dramatic. If she wants to come into this unprepared, then I’ll let her. What about you, though? Your scary lookin’ roommate coming?” </p><p>At this, Historia makes a face, shuffling a little in place and wringing her hands nervously. She looks almost...apologetic?</p><p>And suddenly, Ymir has a bad feeling.</p><p>“Uh - well, you see...”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“Eren, please stop making a scene,” Mikasa pleads, sighing once again as she tugs on her soulmate’s collar to pull him back into his seat from where he’s screaming out the car window.</p><p>“HORSE-DRAWN CARRIAGES ARE ABUSE! END THE EXPLOITATION NOW!” He bellows furiously, using both his hands to press down on the rising window. “‘KASA STOP ROLLING UP THE WINDOW! I NEED TO TELL THEM THAT HORSES DESERVE TO LIVE FREELY! THIS IS WRONG!”</p><p>At the green light, Mikasa guns it, and Eren jerks back into his seat. “Screaming at them won’t accomplish anything. We can sign petitions when we get home, but endangering yourself to yell across the park isn’t smart,” she informs him dryly, glad when she’s able to seal the window without closing it in on her brother’s head.</p><p>Eren shakes his head adamantly. “We need to take action now, though! We can’t let those animals go on like that!”</p><p>Mikasa glances at him from the corner of her eye, fixing him with a look when she finds the beginning of something familiar overtake his face. “We are not stealing those horses, Eren.<em> Or </em>setting them free,” she adds when he looks like he’s about to interject. “We’ll figure it out when we get back, but there’s nothing we can do right now. Armin has pizza waiting for us, and Historia needs to tell me something.”</p><p>The lines of Eren’s face are firm with resolve, but he acquiesces at the mention of “Armin” and “pizza,” much to her relief. She really was so fond and supportive of his passion, but his penchant for trouble has given them a close call too many. She really didn’t want to get arrested today (no matter how much she agreed with her soulmate).</p><p>“Isn’t H on a date?” He grumbles, staring out the window with his arms crossed over his chest. “I thought you were staying with us tonight.” He shoots a questioning glance towards her, but she merely shrugs.</p><p>“I couldn’t hear her well when she was talking to me because I was picking you up at the time. I think her soulmate is still there, though.” </p><p>Eren huffs. “Weird.”</p><p>Mikasa nods in agreement. She’s heard plenty about this Ymir in the past 3 weeks, so much so that she’s pretty sure she knows her almost as well as Historia does. She’s been eager for them to all get together and to get along, and Mikasa’s honestly surprised that the tiny girl hasn’t jumped the gun so far and shoved them in a room together and hoped for the best. But she’s taking her time with this, surprisingly - or as much as she can. </p><p>Historia had basically been walking on sunshine from the moment Mikasa got home from work the day she found Ymir. It was almost nauseatingly sweet how excited and happy she was. She really hadn’t been kidding when she said that finding her soulmate was her dream in life, and Mikasa’s actually impressed by the amount of restraint she’s shown. U-haul lesbians were no joke, especially in a world of soulmates. </p><p>But that begs the question about what Historia could possibly want Mikasa there for. Sure, she hasn’t met the woman yet (she’ll admit that she’s actually disappointed that she wasn’t there for that fateful sunday brunch - seeing the chaos that comes with the soulmate light is always a bit amusing), but there isn’t a reason for her to actually sit down and chat with her, especially before Armin. </p><p>Possibly, it could be because she desired to forge a good relationship with her for potential future visits, but that would still be rather out of character for Historia to agree to because, still, the real person that Ymir should curry favor with is, without a doubt, Armin. Unsurprisingly, this isn’t a difficult task to accomplish because Armin loved everyone - saw the good in everyone (maybe naively, but what did Mikasa know - she was a pessimist). Historia trusted him and his judgement probably more than she trusted her own. He took care of her, supported her, loved her through the death of her mother and the proceeding shitstorm that was Rod Reiss. They were just as much siblings as Eren and Mikasa were.</p><p>If there was anyone that Historia would want Ymir to get to know first, it would be Armin - so what was going on at home?</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“Historia! I got your text! I came as soon as I could,” Armin says, panting, as he throws open the door. Immediately, a small body launches across the room and into his arms. The two pizza boxes in his hand waiver and he stumbles, but he manages to catch himself on the door jam, yelping all the while. He looks down at the mop of gold in surprise and then back up when there’s a sudden weight lifted from his hands.</p><p>“I’ll take this off your hands,” Ymir says, already pulling a slice out of the top box as she heads towards the table and taking a bite out of it.</p><p>Armin blinks and then smiles brightly. “Thanks,” he replies, a little nervously, while Ymir just jerks her head in acknowledgement. He turns back to the girl in his arms. “Now, tell me what’s going on. The SOS was pretty vague, and I almost went 10 over the speed limit to get home.”</p><p>Ymir let's out a quiet snort at that, and both Armin and Historia turn to acknowledge her. Though her eyes widen when she realizes she’s been caught, it’s Historia who apologizes, narrowing her eyes and huffing at her soulmate. “Sorry about her. She was the bad kid in high school - probably smoked behind the bleachers and hit on substitute teachers. She probably thinks driving the speed limit is too straight-laced.”</p><p>At Ymir’s indignant squawks, Armin laughs, shaking his head. “It’s alright. That did sound kind of ridiculous out loud, but I really do try not to speed. Precious cargo and all that,” he explains, motioning a little awkwardly in front of him.</p><p>“Right,” Ymir coughs, grimacing and looking genuinely like she regretted ever making a sound. “I didn’t, by the way - hit on teachers, that is,” she mentions, sounding almost pained, as she’s still holding the half eaten slice still up by her mouth. </p><p>Historia harrumphs, but Armin can tell that she’s still pleased by the information. </p><p>Though it’s nice to interact with the other woman, as little as it’s been, he knows that there are more pressing matters. “Hissy,” he prompts, and she twitches, as if suddenly remembering something.</p><p>She jumps out of his embrace, grabbing his arms with a wide, if a bit panicked, smile. “Armin, we found Mikasa’s soulmate!”</p><p>Armin furrows his eyebrows, lips turning into a pensive frown. “You did? But how?” He asks, not disbelievingly but genuinely bewildered by how this could have occurred. Eren hasn’t been blowing up his phone with the news, and as far as he knows, Mikasa and Eren were together and on their way to their place for a movie night. But Historia wouldn’t say something like this without a reason. </p><p>“It’s Ymir’s soulmate! They found Mikasa once but lost her!”</p><p>“Wait,” Armin pauses, trying to draw up the image of the woman in question. “Annie?”</p><p>“That would be me,” a voice sounds behind him from where the door is still ajar, and both Armin and Historia jump together. Armin turns on his heel to look at the new addition, smiling in greeting and making room to allow her to enter. The woman looks disgruntled, if a bit anxious, and he doesn’t exactly know everything that’s been going on, but he understands the look all the same.</p><p>“Sorry, we didn’t see you there. Come in, please!” Armin motions with his arm, allowing her to step through before closing the door behind her.</p><p>Ymir mutters around another bite of pizza, standing up and striding purposefully towards Annie. “Oh thank <em> fuck </em> you’re here <em> ” </em> she says, gripping the shorter woman by the shoulders and doing a glance over. Annie struggles a bit, curling her lip, but she ultimately allows Ymir to inspect her, looking like it physically pains her to sit still under such scrutiny. “You look fine, I guess - could’ve left your hair down and maybe got plastic surgery on your way - <em> oof.” </em></p><p>There’s a mighty scowl on Annie’s face as she slaps the other woman in the stomach, and Historia lets out a gasp. Armin is trying to stay out of it, but he can’t help but grimace in sympathy. </p><p>“Ymir! Don’t be rude to her!” She turns and does a once over for herself, and Armin has to resist the urge to tug on her arm to remind her that <em> that’s </em> rude too. “You look great! Don’t listen to her - she was wearing overalls when we first met - <em> which </em>were very handsome, by the way,” she stresses when Ymir makes a face. </p><p>“Thanks,” Annie replies, looking away for the slightest second - long enough still for Armin to see the anxiousness in the purse of her lips. </p><p>Feeling like he should interject to make the awkward tension in the room dissipate, he steps forward and rubs his neck, trying to look reassuring. “You don’t need to feel nervous, Annie. Mikasa is really…well, she - she - ”</p><p>“ - likes muscles - ” Historia interjects, as if sensing Armin's panicking, and nods encouragingly at the white long-sleeve shirt that's pulled taught against Annie's biceps.</p><p>“ - a-and hardwork!," Armin adds, nervously glancing at Historia. "And you obviously look like you, uh, well - ”</p><p>“ - do a lot of hard work to keep those muscles because - ”</p><p>“ - your definition is rather admirable!”</p><p>“And your face - ”</p><p>“ - Mikasa will <em> love - ” </em></p><p>“Alright, Wonder Twins! That’s enough out of you two,” Ymir interrupts, looking almost disturbed by the display - which was totally fair. The people around them always liked to joke that they were separated at birth. They had that sort of telepathy that only twin soulmates usually shared, and it was usually off-putting to people that were seeing it for the first time.</p><p>Armin and Historia share a look - one that’s mostly a grimace but also a tad sheepish - before turning back to look at Annie. The other woman, to her credit, hasn’t changed her facial expression much in the last few moments. If anything, she looks slightly calmer than she did when she first walked through the door - which is saying something, because she already had the sort of face where every microexpression was important to notice. It was a lot like Mikasa in that regard, except that Annie’s was, well, for a lack of a better word, harsher - meaner. It didn’t necessarily mean that she was harsh herself (though Armin was beginning to think that there was some truth to her icy and unyielding countenance), but it was indicative of a mask. Armin truly thinks that Mikasa would appreciate that - the challenge, the mystery, and the subsequent revealing of what’s inside. It makes sense, he thinks. Two similar people (at least, at first glance) with just enough differences to make it interesting.</p><p>But still, he needs more information. He would take their word for it, would take <em> Historia’s </em>, but he wants to know it all before Mikasa actually arrives home. Just in case.</p><p>“It should be a little bit before they get here. Would it be alright if you gave me the full story?” Armin asks politely, glancing back and forth between Annie and Ymir.</p><p>The former shrugs, and the latter winces, but they acquiesce easily. Historia leads them to the table where the pizza is currently residing and slips a slice out for herself while Armin motions for them to start.</p><p>The two of them share a nervous glance before Ymir opens her mouth and begins.</p><p>By the end of it, Historia has rapidly begun to pale, half-eaten pizza slice forgotten on a napkin. “Oh no,” she says faintly, staring wide eyed at Ymir in disbelief.</p><p>That only seems to make the other two women more uneasy, who, too, have gone pale with her. “T-this is probably a bad time to mention, but, Annie - your light’s turned on,” and by the drawn expressions of dread etched onto their faces, it’s easy to guess what the general consensus of the room is. Armin himself hadn’t actually known the true cause to why Mikasa had adamantly declined one of the apartments. He’d just trusted her judgement. Now, though, he understands. And the lump that’s suddenly formed in his throat means that he knows that he looks just as weary as the others. </p><p>Slowly, time ticks by, and no one else has uttered a word. Annie has gone near ashen gray, which is only slightly better than her soulmate, who looks stricken with illness. Historia is trying to comfort her by holding her hand, but even she looks apprehensive for the coming minutes. </p><p>Armin is all of a sudden thankful that the 6 of them will be there when Mikasa finds the two of them in her home. It means more people to stop her before she piledrivers Ymir out the window. Truly, if Mikasa catches sight of Ymir before Annie, Armin doesn’t know how she’ll actually react. And worse, since Eren is with her, he’ll follow her into battle with no questions asked. </p><p>He shares a worried glance with Historia, eyes only widening when the beginnings of someone shouting is starting to make its way into the apartment. This seems to distract Annie just a little, who narrows her eyes. “What the hell is that sound?”</p><p>And with the way Ymir’s eyes are basically closed from proximity to Annie, it can only mean one thing.</p><p>“They’re here.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“Eren! Stop yanking on me right now!” Mikasa hisses, using all her strength to sit back on her heels to stop the madness - but even that isn’t enough to stop the man. A determined Eren is a scary thing. An eager, determined, and <em> stubborn </em> Eren is even worse. </p><p>She doesn’t even know how she got into this situation. All she knows is that one moment, she’s sitting in her car and rummaging through her bag, and the next she’s being whisked out of her seat by her rabid soulmate, eyes wide and crazed like a predator who’s searching for the meal that will save him from starvation. Distantly, it reminds her of something - something she desperately has tried to bury in the dark recesses of her mind. That thought floats away from her, however, when she’s able to actually get a word out of him.</p><p>“WE'RE GOING TO SAVE YOU FROM A LIFE OF SPINSTERHOOD, I PROMISE, MIKASA!” He declares aloud as they pass through the lobby, earning the curious and bewildered stares of any passerbys.</p><p>“I’m only 25!” Mikasa hisses back, fighting the burn of embarrassment as the manager raises an eyebrow at them.  </p><p>“25 WITHOUT A WIFE! HOW ARE YOU SUPPOSED TO MAKE ME AN UNCLE WITHOUT A WIFE!?”</p><p>Mikasa nearly chokes on her own disbelief. “EREN!” She manages to exclaim, dumbfounded enough by the sudden expectation that it allows him to pull her to the first row of apartments in their complex. He pushes her ahead of him, looking smug and pleased, and she knows she walked right into that trap. </p><p>“JUST KIDDING! But we’re not leaving until we check each floor,” he says, very seriously, and even she is helpless to the way he shoves her down the hall like a battering ram, eyes opened as wide as they can be.</p><p>Quickly, he determines that the first floor is not bright enough, and she follows robotically as they climb the stairs to the second floor, process repeated until they hit the 4th. That’s when the brightness becomes almost unbearable and Eren gets the <em> brilliant </em>idea of going door to door for a more accurate read.</p><p>It’s as mortifying as you can believe. Only 3 out of the 8 doors on the floor answer, and their reactions range from mild annoyance to distant amusement. Mikasa has to hand it to her soulmate, though - he’s rather thorough about his duty. When the old lady from 406 reveals that her granddaughter is visiting from out of town, he insists that she’s awoken from her nap so that he can see if she’s her match. Even when the old lady insists that she’s already found both of her soulmates, Eren remains unconvinced and almost insists.</p><p>Mikasa has to pull him by the ear to get him to let the poor woman go.</p><p>The only reason she’s going along with and staying silent during his crazed quest is because of a deal they made when they were children. She promised him that she’d let him do whatever means necessary when the time came if it meant that she could be with her soulmate. In retrospect, that was probably not one of her brightest moments, but Eren had been dedicated and protective and determined, and as long he kept his side of the deal when the time came for him, then it was fine, right? </p><p>Wrong. </p><p>Young Mikasa had been so wrong.</p><p>As much as she wants to meet her soulmate (and she really wants to) - there was a line, and Eren had stomped over it 2 doors ago.</p><p>By the time they make it to <em> their </em>floor, tears were beginning to stream from Eren’s eyes from the brightness and the sheer amount of time he’s held them open, and Mikasa was nearing her last nerve. Her jaw was clenched, signaling her impatience, but Eren continued to knock at each door with gusto.</p><p>Admittedly, she was...very nervous. Though she hadn't voiced her agreement aloud when Historia spoke about how important of a day meeting your soulmate was, she believed the same thing. She was patient - more patient than Eren was about it, at least - but that didn't mean that she wasn't plagued by the hope of finding her soulmate. Now that the day was finally here, she felt tender - almost raw with how anxious she was. It didn't help that Eren was beginning to step on every one of her last nerves.</p><p>At apartment number 503, Mikasa’s blood pressure reaches a startling high, and she can no longer accept the sound of Eren yelling without visibly cringing and trying to inch away. All she wants to do is curl up in her bed and hide - not because she doesn’t want to meet them, but because she’s frazzled and surprised and not at all in control of the situation, and Mikasa really, <em> really </em>liked being in control. </p><p>When the person to 504 opens the door, Mikasa knows she’s reached her breaking point. </p><p>“HELLO, DOES ANYONE WITHOUT A ROMANTIC SOULMATE LIVE HERE?” Eren practically screams at the woman, causing Mikasa to blanch in surprise. This was the first time he’s shouted directly at someone, which means he must be growing desperate. </p><p>The woman, similarly, shies away, looking startled. “U-uh - no, sorry!” She squeaks out, and Mikasa goes red, a look of horror, mortification, and irritation morphed confusingly on her face.</p><p>It’s only when Eren picks up on the hesitation in the woman's voice that her tolerance snaps. “ARE YOU SURE? YOU DON’T SOUND SURE!? I NEED YOU TO BE SURE!”<br/><br/>The woman whimpers in distress, and Mikasa, knowing that she needs to get him the hell out of there before he started traumatizing the neighbors one by one, makes a decision. She moves quickly, whirling the man around, bending at the knees, and wrapping her arms securely around him before lifting him up and over her shoulder. Both him and the woman make a startled noise, his much louder than hers.</p><p>“We’re sorry for bothering you, ma’am,” she says stiffly, at the same time Eren begins to screech, “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING, MIKASA! I KNOW THAT WOMAN WAS HIDING SOMEONE IN HERE! WE NEED TO GO BACK INSIDE AND FIND THEM!!”</p><p>Needless to say, the door slams promptly, and Eren continues to thrash on her shoulder. Admittedly, the man is heavy, especially with the way he’s moving around, but her grip is solid and her determination to get the <em> fuck </em>out of there was something even he couldn’t break. </p><p>“MIKASA! MIKASA STOP! YOU’RE PASSING DOORS! MIKASA!”</p><p>But Mikasa trudges on, gritting her teeth as they reach her own apartment. She has to lean Eren’s butt against the door to retrieve her keys from her pocket, and in that time, Eren takes to shoving at her shoulder, trying to slide his way down her front to escape. She simply presses against him harder, trapping him so that he lets out a yelp of indignance.</p><p>“MIKASA! MIKASA! ENOUGH!” He continues to cry out, all the while she curses when trying to get her keys into the door.</p><p>Thankfully, the door opens on it’s own, and Eren’s caught off guard enough that Mikasa can successfully carry him into the apartment. </p><p>“Eren - what the - ” Armin starts, while somewhere in the corner of the room, she can hear Historia’s gasp of alarm. </p><p>“ARMIN! ARMIN! You have to make her let me down! Her soulmate is here, I can just feel it, but she won’t let me find her! She made a promise! You made a promise, Mikasa! MIKASA!” Eren yells, struggling against her, as she fights her way to the living room.</p><p>“Eren, I swear to GOD!” Mikasa hisses, heaving him towards the couch. Beside her, Armin is trying to keep her from running into any miscellaneous furniture while also frantically attempting to calm Eren down. When she reaches the armchair, she all but throws him onto the cushion.</p><p>Immediately, and predictably, he surges upwards to try to escape, but she quickly grabs a pillow and shoves it into his face, pressing him back towards the seat. There are muffled exclamations through the pillow, but she puts her weight against him to keep him from getting up. </p><p>“Eren, calm down!” She commands firmly, willing him to take a moment to collect himself. “You’re frightening the neighbors, and I don’t want to deal with the landlord. Please, relax yourself!” </p><p>Armin frets from beside them, torn between helping his husband and helping Mikasa contain his husband. Ultimately, he chooses the latter, because apparently, even he knows that Eren’s become crazed by his sense of duty.</p><p>“Eren,” he soothes, reaching out to hold him by the shoulder and run a hand through his long hair, “take a breath, love.”</p><p>“But Armin!” He whines, sounding all sorts of betrayed through the pillow, though he has gone decisively limp in her grasp. He must know that he's outnumbered here. She lets out a sigh of relief.</p><p>Eren takes advantage of the slight release of tension from Mikasa’s arms and rips the pillow from her grasp - only to promptly release a noise much akin to a shriek and throw the pillow back over his eyes. “FUCK, TOO BRIGHT!” He bellows, and Armin and Mikasa glance at each other, huffing in amusement.</p><p>For now, it seems like he’s contained - both by the power of the brightness and Armin’s influence. Mikasa relaxes completely and leans off of him, running a hand through her hair tiredly. </p><p>Her soulmate really was a piece of work. But at least he was determined. She couldn’t ask for something better than that, she supposes. </p><p>She just needs a few minutes for them to calm down. Eren would get them nowhere if he continued to scream at the other neighbors, and she would be useless when the time came if she couldn’t gather herself. She’s been told that she can be robotic at the best of times, but she doesn’t want to completely stonewall the person. </p><p>A muffled string of words sounds behind the cushion before she can enter into a stream of thought. Armin pulls the pillow a little forward so Eren’s mouth is no longer covered. “‘Kasa - we need to pull the fire alarm! That puts everyone in one spot!” He enthusiastically suggests, making to stand up again, only to be pushed back down by Armin’s hand.</p><p>Mikasa fixes him with a blank stare, one she’s sure he can feel even through the object obstructing his vision. She’s about to remind him of her profession and <em> why </em>exactly that that was such a horrible idea when - </p><p>“Shit - that’s not a half bad idea. Wish we’d thought of that one before,” comes a grumble somewhere behind her, quiet enough so that it seems like it wasn’t meant to be said to anyone in particular. But everyone in the room hears it regardless. </p><p>Immediately, both Armin and Mikasa freeze. She’d forgotten that Historia was on a date - she’d barely felt their presence at all. Dealing with Eren was usually all-encompassing, and she’s sure she probably wouldn’t have even noticed Armin at all if it weren’t for the fact that Eren had been screaming his name when they walked through the door. </p><p>Not the best first impression for Historia’s soulmate, but she’d have to get used to their oddities sometime. </p><p>Shrugging to herself, Mikasa turns to acknowledge the voice. Imperceptibly, her blondes’ react to the movement - Armin seizing in place and Historia twitching towards the woman sat beside her - the woman who just so happens to have her hand clamped over her eyes.</p><p>Mikasa’s eyes narrow in confusion. “Are you - ”</p><p>“Who the hell was that? Who’s in our apartment right now?” Eren interjects, looking wildly around, pillow still pressed against his face.</p><p>Mikasa sighs in fond exasperation. “It’s just - ” she pauses mid-turn, interrupted again,  when a flash of blonde catches her eye. </p><p>It’s not the blonde she’s accustomed to - not the long, wavy fairness of Historia’s hair, nor the shade of flaxen that falls into Armin’s eyes. It’s pale - the type of pale that reminds her of the light from the midmorning sun that shines through her window. Golden, but just so.</p><p>It’s pretty, Mikasa decides, but unfamiliar. Furrowing her eyebrows, she turns her gaze towards this stranger and promptly does a double-take. </p><p>“Miss Leonhart?” She says before she can stop herself.</p><p>The woman’s eyebrows raise just the slightest bit. “You remember my name?”</p><p>Unnaturally, she feels the tips of her ears burn a little in embarrassment. </p><p>“You were quite memorable,” Mikasa offers, stating it like a fact, though to her, it is one. </p><p>Growing up, there were plenty of references to firefighters rescuing cute little cats from trees, especially for elderly women. After going through the academy, she was a little disappointed to learn that they actually didn’t offer those services. It'd only been by luck that her lieutenant had walked by the dispatchers office during the non-emergency call for Bastard. It would be fun, he'd said. Something light and easy, he'd said.</p><p>His tune quickly changed when he saw the beast that resided in the trees above them.</p><p>Mikasa still thought he was cute, though - even if her lieutenant was convinced he'd come into contact with an agent of the devil. The scars were definitely a part of his charm.</p><p>It also helped that his owner was ridiculously hot. <em> What she’d do to have that glare turned onto her, </em>Mikasa shudders, remembering how often she’d dreamed of crystal blue eyes in the previous weeks. It was an altogether strange reaction for an encounter that lasted so little time, but more than once, she felt a pang of disappointment that they didn’t get to speak more. </p><p>Seeing her here, sitting at her kitchen table, was more than enough to put her off balance - well, more than she already was.</p><p>The woman must feel the same because the odd paleness of her face suddenly flushes with red -a blushing response, Mikasa realizes. She must’ve complimented her unknowingly. She smiles slightly at the realization. </p><p>“Who the fuck is Miss Leonhart? Is it one of Historia’s teacher friends?” Eren asks, breaking the weird tension that’s suddenly settled into the room. He’s still hidden, still a little amped up, but Mikasa is glad that he’s no longer shouting. For some reason, she doesn’t want him to offend the stranger any more than he probably already has.</p><p>“I helped rescue her cat from a tree,” she supplies, though her eyes trail across Ymir and subsequently Historia questioningly as well. </p><p>Historia perks up at the attention, and shuffles so that it’s like she’s trying to conceal Ymir’s presence. Mikasa’s eyes narrow even further at the action, and almost simultaneously, both Armin and Historia gulp. </p><p>“That’s kinda weird. Why is she in your apartment? Also, why do you all feel so weird? What’s going on?” Eren voices the thoughts that’s running through her head, sounding bewildered. </p><p>“It’s Annie! Remember, Eren - she’s Ymir’s soulmate!” Armin answers, and the waver in his voice is immediately suspicious, not that any of their previous behavior hadn’t been. </p><p>This is interesting news. Miss Leonhart, or Annie, is her soulmate’s soulmate’s soulmate’s soulmate’s soulmate. The connection makes her feel oddly giddy. Maybe they could finally have a chance to talk.</p><p>That doesn’t explain, however, why Historia and Armin are acting jumpy, and why Ymir has her hand over her face. She can’t even see what she looks like, but she seems tall and willowy. </p><p>“Oh, yeah! The shorty with a grumpy face! What’s she doing here, for? Is it game night or somethin’?”</p><p>“Eren, don’t be rude,” Mikasa immediately chides. At the same moment, Annie scowls fiercely, Ymir barks out a laugh, and Historia twitches once again. “Though I also would like to know what’s going on. Historia,” she motions towards her before crossing her arms over her chest, “please.”</p><p>In panic, it seems that Historia glances around her, looking for support. She turns to Ymir, who’s still covering her eyes, and then Armin who shrugs in his own panic, and then Annie, who’s suddenly returned to that unnatural pallor. Finally, she gulps and turns back to Mikasa and smiles, a little wobbly thing that reminds Mikasa that she’s still not recovered from the mess of nerves that followed her from the hallway. There’s a tenseness that settles in her shoulders, and she almost can’t help the way she shuffles anxiously in place.</p><p>Thankfully, Eren says something. He’s always been slightly more impatient than herself.</p><p>“Okay, you guys are freaking me out now. Historia, what the fu - ” Eren abruptly cuts himself off, and Mikasa whirls on him, only to find that he’s dropped the pillow and is making an odd face. His eyebrows are almost up to hairline, and his jaw is twitching from where it’s dropped. “No fucking way,” he says, the quietist thing he’s said all day, and immediately, warning sirens go off in Mikasa’s head. </p><p>“What?” Mikasa urges, reaching out to grab onto his shoulder, when he turns to her. He turns back to look at Annie, and then back again, and then -</p><p>“NO FUCKING WAY!” He screams into the silence of the room, and collectively, everyone jumps at the announcement. “NO FUCKING WAY! MIKASA! THAT GRUMPY WOMAN IS YOUR SOULMATE!” He bellows, jumping up with a joyous laugh.</p><p>Immediately, Mikasa goes stiff. She’s petrified by the revelation. She’s pretty sure her eyebrows are frozen from where they’ve risen in surprise. She turns to glance at the woman, as if to ask, <em> is this true? </em>And the woman can only turn an even paler shade of white in response. </p><p>Somewhere, in the back of her head, she’s ecstatic. She’s sure that if she had full control over her vocal cords at the moment, she’d let out a relieved laugh, or maybe a disbelieving one. Just something to show that she’s very happy with her match.</p><p>Annie really was so very beautiful. From the moment she laid eyes on her, she was intrigued by the firm lines of her face, the set of her jaw, the disinterest in her eyes. It was all so...mysterious - closed off. Mikasa had, strangely, wanted so badly to hear her talk. To hear her reveal something about herself. Perhaps that should’ve been telling in itself. </p><p>“Oh,” Mikasa settles on saying, very quietly. She glances away from Annie’s guarded eyes for a moment to look at Ymir’s own covered ones and nods to herself. “That makes sense,” she offers.</p><p>“It does?” Annie perks up, just the slightest bit.</p><p>“Of course,” Mikasa affirms, smiling slightly. “Your cat was wonderful, but I liked you an awful lot for only having known you for 15 minutes - and I don’t usually care for other people much.”</p><p>This time, it’s Annie’s turn to utter out an, “oh.” And then they just sit there, staring at each other in a way that Historia would later describe as dopily, before Ymir finally breaks her silence.</p><p>“For god’s sake - could you guys hold hands or kiss or something? I’m tired of not seeing shit,” Ymir curses, and immediately, Mikasa moves to fulfill the request.</p><p>Annie doesn’t see Mikasa coming because she’s too busy scowling and trying to hide the blush that’s flushed across her cheeks. She must blush easily, Mikasa wonders, filing that piece of information away for later. She knows that she’s much better at hiding her emotions than others, almost detrimentally so, but even she can’t hide the tremble in her hands as she makes her way over to the kitchen table. Her strides are purposeful, and every step closer to Annie makes her heart want to beat straight out of it’s chest. Something as trivial as shaking a hand shouldn’t make her so nervous. She’s touched hundreds of hands - not all at once, of course - but the direness that settles into her bones makes it feel like this was a make or break moment - like she needs to wow Annie with the grip of her hand or else the other woman would disappear like a mirage. </p><p>Decidedly, that’s not something she wants to occur, so she sets her shoulders and tries to meet the other woman’s gaze. Annie has turned back by this point, hooded eyes widening when she realizes that Mikasa actually listened to her soulmate, and setting her face back into something that resembles blankness but is actually more stern. She doesn’t let that deter her, though. When she reaches Annie, she holds out a hand, taking care not to thrust it out and to put it at perfect height for Annie’s own. Annie stares at it for a few moments, looking as if it might come out and bite her, and Mikasa swallows, the only other sign of her apprehension. The other woman zeroes in on the bobble of her throat and slowly reaches out to accept the grasp. </p><p>Truthfully, there isn’t anything magical about the moment, and simultaneously, Eren and Ymir nearly ruin the importance of the event by letting out exaggerated gasps of relief. Mikasa would roll her eyes at her own soulmate, but admittedly, the contact feels...nice. Annie’s hand is rather small in her own, obvious by their own height difference, but it fits so well. She likes the way her thumb rests against her skin, likes the iciness from her nerves, likes how firm the grip is. If Annie had wanted to wow Mikasa with the handshake, she was definitely wow-ed. </p><p>“It’s nice to officially meet you, Annie,” Mikasa says quietly, as if it will somehow keep the conversation between the two of them. “My name is Mikasa Ackerman, if you didn’t know that beforehand.”</p><p>This time, it’s Annie’s turn to swallow. “I’ve been wondering about that first name - but I think your soulmate screamed it out enough times for it to sink in,” Annie replies, equally as quietly but also tinted with the faintest traces of amusement. </p><p>Behind them, Eren lets out a snort.</p><p>“Way to make that sound dirty, Annes,” Ymir deadpans.</p><p>Historia and Annie move in sync with each other, turning to chide the other woman, though Annie is admittedly more violent about the approach. Mikasa herself has turned to glare warningly at her brother for interrupting the moment, who only cowers in response, holding his hands up. </p><p>Annie’s voice brings her back to her, though. “Sorry about her. She was dropped on her head as a child,” she explains with a scowl, stuffing her hands in her pockets.</p><p>Her lips twitch in response when Ymir bites back, “that’s not nice, y’know. I totally could’ve been, and we wouldn't even know.”</p><p>“Oh, we know,” Annie retorts flatly, and Mikasa can’t help the little laugh that escapes her. Her soulmate looks oddly pleased at the sound, but Mikasa is quick to cover it up, tucking her chin to her neck and allowing her scarf to cover her mouth. She knows she’s just made a terrible faux pas. How rude of her to laugh at Historia’s soulmate when they haven't even been properly acquainted yet. So she turns to look at Ymir, and as per the theme of the night, everyone in the general vicinity besides her and Eren tense up, going rigid in place. Ymir herself has an odd look to her face, like she’s attempting to hold it still but there’s an expression pulling desperately at it. </p><p>It makes her look rather...familiar.</p><p>“I’m sorry, we haven’t been properly introduced, but frankly, I have the strangest feeling that we’ve met before,” Mikasa narrows her eyes, trying to picture Ymir’s face in her mind.</p><p>Historia whimpers, and both Annie and Ymir begin to vehemently deny the claim, shaking their heads. </p><p>“Nope! Wasn’t me!”</p><p>“She doesn’t get out often. You wouldn’t have seen her.”</p><p>But now the picture is settling in Mikasa’s head.</p><p>It’s the eyes, maybe - or the way she’s moving her head - but…</p><p>“You’re - ” Mikasa begins, stiffening abruptly and bristling at the realization. She’s taking a step back before she realizes it - maybe off of pure instinct.</p><p>“Mikasa…” Historia starts slowly, trying to step in between her and Ymir. “I know - ”</p><p>“She’s - ” she interrupts, hissing accusingly. “That’s - she’s - your soulmate is - ” she has to cut herself off to swallow the strangled scream that wants to burst from her throat. </p><p>The people in front of her are staring at her warily - like <em> she’s </em> the crazy one, and it actually starts to make her feel like she is crazy. Annie and Historia are looking like they might dive bomb in front of Ymir the moment Mikasa makes a move - and okay, she’s not going to <em> attack </em> the woman. It’s just… <em> what the fuck!!! </em> This woman literally made it into her top 3 worst days of her life, and suddenly <em> she’s </em>the feral beast that’s going to punch a woman unprovoked? No!  </p><p>But doesn’t she deserve an explanation? Obviously - <em> obviously, </em> she’s not as fucking crazy as she seemed, because she’s sitting here at <em> her </em> kitchen table eating <em> her </em>pizza like a normal, non-crazy person. Though she does look suspiciously green in the face, no matter how much she tries to hide it by pointing her nose upwards…</p><p>A deep frown pulls at Mikasa’s lips, and she turns all of her attention on Ymir, peering over Historia’s head to glare down at her. If possible, Ymir’s face pinches even further, but before Historia, Annie, or Armin can interfere, she puts her hand up to silence them.</p><p>Very quietly, very <em> seriously, </em>she says, “Explain.”</p><p>And Ymir is all too willing to open her mouth.</p><p>“Listen, lady - you caught me on a bad day. I literally just woke up like 5 minutes before, and Annie’s light was dimming so I freaked the fuck out. Not my brightest moment to scream at you from the window, but I didn’t know what else to do! You were leaving, and Anne’s here was without a soulmate. Seemed to make sense at the time to do whatever to stop you,” she grumbles out, though she can’t quite keep the embarrassment from her voice. </p><p>“A-and Ymir saw a picture of you on the coffee table and totally orchestrated this whole meeting with Annie, s-so, please keep that in mind!” Historia adds, squeaking like she’s actually afraid for her soulmate’s wellbeing.</p><p>What did they think she was going to do? If Ymir was the first person she saw when she walked in, sure - she probably would’ve escalated the situation - maybe put the woman in a chokehold - but that hadn’t happened! Because she found Annie, and because she’s Annie <em>and </em>Historia's soulmate, she wouldn’t lay a finger on her. </p><p>Reasonably, the most she thinks they should’ve expected from her in this situation was perhaps a mighty glare, or even just the threat of action. To think she’d throw down with the woman like one of those tacky WWE showdowns that Eren watched just because she’d given her a mighty spook was preposterous. </p><p>Well, Historia did have a penchant for dramatics. And, seemingly, Armin too. </p><p>Plus, she couldn’t very well be mad at Ymir for using less than orthodox tactics to keep her from leaving the general vicinity. She’s sure her own soulmate would’ve resorted to even more dire tactics than that if their situations had been reversed. </p><p>The matter is resolved, and easily, the tension drains from her shoulders. </p><p>She shrugs. “Okay. Sorry for the misunderstanding.” </p><p>Ymir blinks in shock, but it’s Annie who asks, “just like that?”</p><p>Mikasa nods. “The explanation made sense. It’s just best to put it behind us now.”</p><p>Annie just stares hard at her, looking vaguely awed by the simplicity of it all as she mutters out an almost skeptical, “Oh, you really are perfect,” at the same time Ymir’s face sets back into a scowl and she finally slouches into her seat from where she’d been sitting rigidly, growling, “you had me thinking she was gonna kill me or somethin’!”</p><p>Shocked by the compliment, she goes pink, glancing away nervously. Annie, as if realizing what she just said, mirrors the action.</p><p>“Mikasa can be really scary sometimes! Seriously! She’s not afraid to fight someone, and she was really freaked out that day she came home!” Historia protests poutily, trying to defend herself.</p><p>“I didn’t even know about any of this, but I definitely would’ve put money down that Mikasa would’ve fought you! Do you know how hard it is to freak her out? You must’ve looked pretty fucking ghoulish to have scared her,” Eren mentions, looking pensive and disgruntled at the same time, as if he’s almost upset that the matchup hadn’t occurred. Mikasa has to fight the urge to send a reproachful look at him - she was one to talk. She always grew slightly excited whenever Historia or Eren picked a fight at a bar. </p><p>Ymir scowls even more. “Alright, alright, we get it - I looked awful. Rub it in.”</p><p>Mikasa rubs her neck, feeling some sort of sympathy for her. “If it makes you feel better, I was having a terrible day beforehand. You just happened to be the topper.”</p><p>“It doesn’t,” Ymir bites out when Annie guffaws, “but thanks.” She does, however, look slightly mollified by how Historia is cooing over her. </p><p>"Anyways," Armin says, rubbing his hands together and drawing the attention of the room towards him. Mikasa notes immediately that Historia and him are sharing a meaningful look, and immediately, her gut feeling is telling her that she's not going to like whatever comes out of their mouths next. "Game night anyone?"</p><p>"Not on your life," comes Annie's immediate reply.</p><p>"This is still date number 4! I get Historia for at least until the end of the day before you force that on us," is Ymir's indignant one.</p><p>Mikasa can only grimace, knowing that she was right, while Eren scowls, ever the sore loser. (It was always tough to go against Armin during game night, and Historia was always quick to call dibs. Mikasa herself has a bit of a chip on her own shoulder remembering how many times she's lost to those two.)</p><p>Instead of deigning them with a reply, she turns her own attention to the pretty blonde sitting moodily in her chair. When Annie catches her eye, she cocks her head in questioning (something she finds inordinately cute). Swallowing up all of her pride and attempting to clear her face of any expression, Mikasa motions towards the door. "Dinner?" she asks, sounding more confidant than she felt. </p><p>Annie looks surprised, but it disappears as quick as it comes. Shrugging, she stands up from the table, and Mikasa is once again reminded of the difference in height between them. Somewhere, deep inside, this appeases a primal desire of hers, one she wasn't aware of before previously, but she quickly shoves that to the back of her head. Dinner. She has to get through dinner first.</p><p>"Sure. There's a brewery not too far from here if you want," Annie mentions, already making her way to the door.</p><p>All too happy to trail after her, Mikasa answers, "fine by me." </p><p>"But what about game night," Historia calls after them with a faux expression of disappointment that Mikasa is sure is only really half fake. Behind her, Ymir is waving her hand in front of her neck - as if she needed encouragement to get away from game night.</p><p>"Let's see how they survive sunday brunch first, Historia," she pauses, glancing at her companion. "And if Annie can survive me."</p><p>Snorting, Annie raises an eyebrow. "Please - I can take you, Ackerman," she taunts, sauntering out the front door with a final knowing look while Ymir mutters out a sarcastic, "goodbye to you too, soulmate." </p><p>Mikasa sighs wistfully after her. "I sure hope so." </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>lololol finals were a bitch, but I LIVED!!! so here's this to commemorate. </p><p>anywaysss, i might do some shorts of this story in the future. mikasa and annie deserve more screentime i think. </p><p>thanks for reading!! this was fun as hell and probably stupid, but i loved it. i hope you guys did too</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>okay okay okay - i haven't written or posted anything in forever so idk wtf this is. the idea popped in my head bc i love these fuckheads and the found family trope, so i just threw them together and hoped for the best. don't take this too seriously</p><p>I love soulmate au's, so i wanted to take a bit of a different approach. do i think this is a feasible universe for soulmates? not at all! but i still love it so just take it pls. this is for mikannie week, but yumihisu are pretty prominent in this as well</p><p>Inspired by My Road to You by Texan_Red_Rose (https://archiveofourown.org/works/14752898).</p></blockquote></div></div>
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